} 


es” nO. 


-e 


re 
¥ 
=r 


~ 


New York, N. Y. Proposed Office and Convocation Building. 
Bertram G. Goodhue, Architect. 


THE 
AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE 
OF TO-DAY 


G. H. EDGELL 


PROFESSOR OF FINE ARTS AND DEAN OF THE FACULTY OF 
ARCHITECTURE, HARVARD UNIVERSITY 


CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS 
NEW YORK + LONDON 
1928 


AS 


CopyricuT, 1928, BY fa 
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS _ 


Printed in the United States of America 


‘ ' 
& 
7 : 
: é 
k 
. 
r 
re f 
Ps i r . 
: 
‘ z 
ve 
ee ee 
’ ty 
} , 


& 


es y ao 
er, 
: a 
Ded 
i) - : 
. 
r al 
f 
‘ 
- 4 a - 
. L ¥ 
: at j ; ce 


PREFACE 


Tus book represents an elaboration and revision of three lectures 
on modern American architecture which the author was asked to give for 
the Henry La Barre Jayne Foundation in Philadelphia. It was under- 
stood that the lectures were to be published and they were therefore rather 
carefully written. When finished, however, it was found that the mate- 
rial was so extensive, the illustrations so numerous, that they could not be 
delivered as composed. The lectures were therefore abridged, delivered 
without manuscript, and the text, rewritten and reclassified, the three 
lectures changed to four chapters, was reserved for publication. Albeit 
the book varies in many important respects from the lectures as delivered, 
the flavour of the printed lecture may cling to it still. If so, the writer 
craves indulgence and reminds the reader that this is almost inevitable in 
any modern book on the fine arts, where every major statement is for- 
tified by an illustration, and the arrangement must perforce resemble that 
of an illustrated talk. 

In one respect the book coincides exactly with the lectures: it is ad- 
dressed to laymen. Indeed, it is a layman’s review for laymen. The 
writer is not a professional architect, but a student of the history of art. 
Moreover, he has no claim to special expertness in the field of modern 
American architecture. As a student of the history of art, a critic, and an 
observer of beauty, he was asked to review for laymen some of the ten- 
dencies of the fascinating architecture of America to-day. The book is 
the result. 

The architect may find the book interesting. We hope he will. We 
even dare hope that parts, at least, may not only stimulate him but help 
him to think of his work in a new way. The last thing we should arro- 
gate to ourselves, however, is the desire to instruct him. 

To the architect, however, the writer owes many thanks and many 
apologies. First be it noted that when the material is so vast, it is 1m- 
possible to do justice to the work of any individual, and the work of the 


Vv 


v1 PREFACE 


many cannot be mentioned at all. Our review must be illustrated with 
a series of monuments. No one man, the writer least of all, would be 
capable of selecting or even being sure of knowing the best examples. For 
every building selected there might be another, or a dozen, or a hundred 
other examples that would illustrate the point as well or better. Yet 
weighty importance will seem to be given to those selected and corre- 
spondingly to the skill and taste of the architect of each, while the worthy 
designers of many other monuments as fine will go unmentioned. This 
is unfortunate but inevitable. The writer can only disarm criticism by 
confessing that he is more keenly alive to the defect than any reader, 
and by begging each reader to regard each monument discussed as an 
example of a type and not of necessity, in the majority of cases, even 
the best of the type. 

This we must insist on the more strongly, as in every possible case 
the writer will name the designer of any building discussed. ‘This he 
does deliberately in an attempt to combat the present vicious tendency 
to ignore the name of an architect while enjoying his work. Why this 
tendency should exist in the case of architecture and not in those of the 
other arts it is rather hard to explain. The first question about a paint- 
ing or a piece of sculpture is usually with regard to its authorship. In- 
deed the modern trend in the study of painting is to emphasise the im- 
portance of connoisseurship at the expense of any serious attempt to ana- 
lyse the artistic merit of a work. Yet those very délettanti who are so 
exercised over the question as to whether or not a feeble panel really is 
by Niccolo di Pietro Gerini will enjoy and pass by a great building with- 
out once inquiring the name of the architect, be he ever so well known 
and the authorship beyond dispute. Despite the danger of false empha- 
sis and the greater danger of an occasional error, we shall name the archi- 
- tects of the monuments we mention and try to give credit where credit 
is due. 

Another point should be stressed in the Preface. The reader will 
soon find that the book is the work of an optimist. Consistently, the au- 
thor has tried to take the appreciative and constructive point of view. 
Much bad architecture has been done in the United States; much is still 
being done. It is a temptation to write about it. Jeremiah probably en-— 
joyed himself, though equally probably he would have denied it. The 


PREFACE vil 


bad, however, is better ignored. This would not be true were there not 
so much good. To analyse, isolate, and honestly expound virtue is far 
harder than to do the same with vice. Moreover, it lacks a sensational 
appeal. None the less it 1s the more worth doing, and especially so in 
the case of American architecture. No thoughtful person will deny that 
the American of to-day is living in one of the most interesting architec- 
tural periods in the history of the world. We are not improbably on the 
threshold of a great Renaissance. It is the opportunity of the artist to 
bring it about, the duty of the critic to give it recognition, the privilege 
of the layman to observe and enjoy it. 

The author has many acknowledgments to make; so many indeed 
that he despairs of making them properly. First his thanks go to the 
trustees of the Henry La Barre Jayne Foundation. Their imagination, 
their confidence, and their material assistance made possible both lectures 
and book. Among them the writer is indebted especially to Mr. Roland 
S. Morris. At the same time he is glad to take this occasion to recog- 


nise the courtesy and help of Mrs. David La B. Jayne. To Mr. C. C. 
Zantzinger especial thanks are due. His assistance in obtaining and pre- 


paring material, in suggesting ideas and filling /acune has been generous 
and constant. It seems ungracious, however, to mention any one archi- 
tect by name. The lion’s share of thanks goes to the profession as a whole. 
In preparing material it was necessary to approach hundreds of archi- 
tects, to ply them with questions, to beg from them photographs, to ask 
their co-operation. The generosity and courtesy of their response was 
inspiring. 

To his colleagues on the Faculty of Architecture at Harvard the au- 
thor owes a constantly increasing debt. To Miss Sally Symonds, Secre- 
tary of the School, belongs credit for indefatigable work upon the manu- 
script and in proof-reading. Above all, the author owes to Miss Ruth 
V. Cook, Librarian of the School, a debt which it is hard to liquidate. Her 
assistance in classification, in collecting photogtaphs, and especially in as- 
sembling vast amounts of bibliographical material and preparing the bib- 
liography, was so great as to belittle the thanks which the author takes 
this occasion cordially to extend. 


GH. EK. 


CONTENTS 


THE DEVELOPMENT OF AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE 


Page I 


II 


THE DomEstTic AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE 


Page 85 


Til 


EccLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE 


Page 195 


IV 


CoMMERCIAL ARCHITECTURE 


Page 285 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 
Page 377 


Note: A Classified List of Monuments mentioned and illustrated 
will be found immediately following the List of Illustrations. 


tf 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


Frontispiece . . New York, N. Y. Proposed Office and Convocation 
FIG. NO. pone PAGE 
eee. = Dedham, Mass. Fairbanks House . . . . .. d@I9 
See. Saugus, Mass. Scotch-Boardman House . . . . 17 
eee. Mount Airy, Va. . . . hs ae i eee LG 
fe eee. «scheme for a Country House . yamiessGibbs ec ks eg 
eee «6Blevation of Georgian Steeples by James Gibbs. Ss 2: 
Cee seDesion fora Doorway . . 2 =...) wD 
See Pievation and Plan fora Country House... °. . 2! 
eee Cartiottesville, Va. Monticello .. 2°... . 2. 8 623 
eee Philadelphia, Pa. Woodlands . . ...>. .. 28 
ewe New York, N. Y.. Dyckman House... .. » . 27 
eee. | Germantown, Pa. Cliveden, or Chew Mansion . . 27 
fee. New Orleans, La. The Cabildo .-. . . . 9... 28 
eee eoanta he, N.M. Old Governor's Palace . . . . 28 
Reeve... Cambridge, Mass.. Vassall House . ©... .. 30 
fee |. Westover, on the James River, Virginia. . » ... 30 
Cee Le Enfant Plan'for Washington © 2 2.0.0... 5 32 
Serie: New York, N.Y. City Hall). fo es 94 
Suey | New York, N.Y. Trinity Church: 2°. 2.2... 134 
Sees. |New York, N. Y. St. Patrick’s Cathedral... .-. 34 
fe. «6. ~S« Boston, Mass. aes Church, Before Completion of 
Prcimeacar (> U0 Renato eto ew 
eee -. Asheville N: C. . Biltmore House, ©. 20 ee 37 
memeeeees . New York: N.Y. -Uribune Building". 0. fess 39 


x1 


Xi 


FIG. 


26 . 


Tee 
28. 


2026; 
40 ~. 
kane 
cee 


oa: 
34: 
Jae: 
S61 
hae 
a8, 
oa 


nO-s 


go 
423 


43 - 
44 . 
AS | 


Ao 


ie 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


Chicago, Ill. World’s Columbian Exposition: 
Administration Building 


Newport, R. I. Busk Residence . 


Philadelphia, Pa. International Exposition of 1876: 
Machinery Hall 3G 


Agricultural Building . 

Fine Arts Building . 

Michigan State Building . 
Chicago, Ill. World’s Columbian Exposition: 


H. W. Root’s Study for the Central Pavilion of 


the Main Building . 
Court of Honour 
Agricultural Building . 
Manufactures and Liberal Arts Building 
Plan . 
Fine Arts Building . 
Transportation Building 


Omaha, Neb. Trans-Mississippi and International Ex- 
position: 
Government Building . 


Buffalo, N. Y. Pan-American Espoo Electric . 


Tower . seca 
New York State Building . 


Plans Showing Comparative Scales of American Ex- 
positions 


St. Louis, Mo. Louisiana Purchase Exposition: 
Palace of Agriculture . 


Festival Hall and Cascades 
Arts Building 


Seattle, Wash. Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exod 
Perspective . J) eo 


California Building 


PAGE 


39 
39 


41 
41 
41 
43 


43 
45 
45 
46 
46 
48 
48 


50° 


5° 
$° 


52 
54 
54 


58 


s7 
57 


FIG. NO 


7s eae 


ADS 
50 . 
ae 
ies, 


53> 54 - 
755: 
56 . 


“¥ bee 


Rs 
oe 


GO 
61 


62: 
oa... 


‘eee 
68 
69 . 
FO, 
ie 
13° 
74 - 


64, 65, 66 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


San Francisco, Calif. Panama-Pacific International 
Exposition: 
Arch of the Rising Sun 
Tower of Jewels 
Horticultural Hall . 
Cloister of the Court of Abundance . 


San Diego, Calif. Panama-California International 
Exposition: 
Bridge and California State Building 
California State Building . 
La Laguna de las Flores 
Taos, N. M. Pueblo Village 


San Diego, Calif. Panama-California International 
Exposition: 
New Mexico Building . 
St. Louis, Mo. Fagin Building 


New York, N. Y. The Flatiron ans Under Con- 


struction 


_ New York, N. Y. A Modern Steel Building Neat 


Finished 
New York, N. Y. Metropolitan Life Insurance Build- 
it eee Sree BER Se ise. A 
Second-Prize Design for the atten Tribune Tower 
New York, N. Y. Savoy-Plaza Hotel 
Chicago, Ill. Auditorium Building 
St. Louis, Mo. St. Nicholas Hotel 
Chicago, Ill. Residence of Louis Sullivan, Architect 
Chicago, Ill. Graceland Cemetery: Getty Tomb . 
El Paso, Texas. Mills Building 
Riverside, Ill. Coonley House 
Exeter, R. I. House 


Falmouth, Mass. House 


X11 


PAGE 


X1V LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


FIG. NO. PAGE 
75, 76.2 2 sc: afirey uN Emerg blouse aya | ete 
77,78 . . . .  Fieldston, N.Y. Residence of Henry N. Furnald, 4, Esq, 94 
79, 80, 81. . . Farmington, Conn.: Bissell House (oo oi hare 
82 . . ... . Knollwood, N. C.. Mid-Pines Country Ciubiy aye eee 
S30 Atlanta, Gano Residenccuseeas seer ey oe 
84... . . + Sparkill, N.Y. Residence of Mrs. W. Ti Ralion see 
85... ., . .. New Canaan, Conn. Residence of By haa yaa 
, hoof, Esq. 2. 3 38 5 3 
86. . . . . Germantown, Pa. House on Cliveden Aventie eee 
87 . . . . . Ithan, Pa. Residence of Mrs) J. ls Meissen 
88... . . . New Orleans, La. Residence of J; C: Lyons case 
89,90. . . . Pasadena, Calif. Residence of Herbert Coppell, Esq. 102, 104 
gt. . . . .. Beverly Hills, Calif. Dias Dorados >) 3355) sue 
g2. .:..... Pasadena, Calif. Residence of W. I. jettersony (cq; ssueeus 
93. . . . . Santa Barbara, Calif. Residence of Craig Hebertou: 
Esq. we ee ee ee 
94... . . Palm Beach, Fla. Residence of J. S. Phipps; sq. pee 
95°. . . . . Coral Gables, Fla.” Venetian Casino ©). 
96. . . . . Coral Gables, Fla. House of J. WH. Humphrey) ee 
97. . . . . St. Martins, Philadelphia, Pa. House of N. M. Sea- 
breeze, Esq... Oe 
98,99 . . . . Newport, R.I. Residence of Stuart Duncan, sq) sens 
Ioo = —~«w:~S.-~St«.:~Ss Chestnut Hill, Pa. House for Staunton ByiPeengesa se 
ior . . . . Chestnut Hill, Pa. Residence of Persifor Frazier 
gd, Esq. 9. 
102... . St. Martins, Philadelphia, Pa. 7) ee 
103. ... .. Chestnut Hill, Pa. The “French Village: ge 
104,105 . . . Laverock, Pa. Newbold Farm > 2). 5)sseee 
106% 5. oe SChestnut Hillebaenioase ME 
107 . . . .. St. Martins, Philadelphia, Pa, Group iemegesen 


George Woodward .. . . | 3) 


FIG. NO. 
108 


10g, 110 


eet 


112 


113 


Ela, 15 
116 


ry 


118 


11g 
120 


et 19, 123, 124 


125 
126 
127 
128 
129 
130 
131 
132 


133, 134 


E3010 36 
137 
138 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


Springgreen, Wis. House of Frank Lloyd esas 
Architect Sa ee 


Plainfield, N.H. Breed Farm aoe 
Glen Cove, L. I. Estate of J. E. Aldred, Es Air 


View 


MeecustaValley, a 1. wkstate of Bf Ryan Es 
Air View 


Lakeville, N. Y. Estate of L. F. Sherman, ae Air 
View pile ee ae 


Chestnut Hill, Pa. Estate of E. T. ates ees Esq. 


Jericho, L. I. Estate of Walter E. ee hat es Air 
View ; 
Syosset, L. I. Estate of Otto Kahn, Esq. Air View . 


Wheatley Hills, L. I. Estate of H. P. Whitney, Esq. 
Air View Cee oe eG Nene taek, einatias ence 


Rockville, Conn. Maxwell Court 
Great Barrington, Mass. Estate of Mr. Walker 


Miami, Fla. “Vizcaya,” Villa of the late James Deer- 


ft ae ny en elie eae hos 
New York, N. Y. Villard Houses 
New York, N. Y. Residence of H. I. Pratt, Esq. 
New York, N. Y. Upper Fifth Avenue . 
New York, N. Y. Houses on Park Avenue . 
New York, N. Y. House on Park Avenue . 
New York, N. Y. Residence of Maurice Brill, Esq. 
New York, N. Y. Upper Fifth Avenue . 


New York, N. Y. 277 Park Avenue . 


Atlantic Heights, Portsmouth, N. H. A War Emer- 
gency Industrial Village . it ok ere 


Hilton Village, Va. Industrial Village 
Locust Valley, N. Y. Piping Rock Country Club . 


_ Chicago, Ill. University of Chicago . 


XV1 

FIG. NO. 

139 

140 

tat, 142,149 % 
{aay 6,6, 9; 150, 1 


147 
148 


152 


153 
154 


155 
156, 157, 158. 


159, 160 
161 
162 


163 


171 
E743 473 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


Cambridge, Mass. Harvard University . ea 
Mower Hall 163 
School of Business Administration, Winning Design 164 
School of Business Administration, Competitive 

Designs... 1200... 

Gore Hall 167 

Standish Hall 167 
Hanover, N. H. Dartmouth College: 

Sketch for Library . 170 

Sketch for Dormitories 170 
Princeton, N. J. Princeton University: 

Pyne Hall 172 

Graduate School 172 
New Haven, Conn. Yale University: 

Harkness Memorial. . . 3 |] a ae 
West Point, N. Y. U.S. Military Acaders 177 
Newton, Mass. Boston College 178 
Houston, Texas. Rice Institute . 178 
Cambridge, Mass. Aerial View of Massachusetts In- 

stitute of Technology 180 

Cambridge, Mass. Harvard University and Surround- 

ings . CAG 180 

Pittsburgh, Pa. University of Pittsburgh 182 

Cambridge, Mass. Harvard University: Stadium 185 

Philadelphia, Pa. University of Pennsylvania: Frank- 

lin Field er 185 

New Haven, Conn. Yale University: Yale Bowl 185 

New York, N. Y. Yankee Stadium . 187 

Los Angeles, Calif. Coliseum 187 

Greenfield, Ohio. Edward Lee McClain Heh: School. 190 


Galveston, Texas. Goliad School 


FIG. NO. 
174, 175 
176 
773.170 
£79 

180 
181, 182 
183, 184 
185 

186 

187 

188 

189 

1gO 
IgI, 192 
193 

see 
195, 196 
197 

198 

199 


200, 201, 202 . 


203, 204 


List OF ILLUSTRATIONS XVI 


PAGE 
iparversGoloeeast igh School wea \. . 13 «192 
Newburyport, Mass. St. Paul’s Church . . . . 200 
Lyme, Conn. First Congregational Church ._—._ 200, 201 
Washington, D.C. All Souls’ Church . . . . «. 202 
Honolulu, Hawaii. Central Union Church . . . . 202 
Peterboro, N.H. All Saints’ Church . . . . . 204 
Beton asses sminanuci.Church =... ee 206 
Pittsburgh, Pa. First Baptist Church . . . . - 207 
Newey ore Nn. Yo Ghurch of St, [Thomas .-. - - 207 
New York, N. Y. Chapel of the Intercession . . . 208 
ew York N.-y..Church of St. Thomas... .. -, 208 
New York, N. Y. St. Johnof Nepomuk . . . . 210 
Cambridge, Mass. St. John’s Church . . . . . 210 
New York, N. Y. St. Bartholomew’s Church . . . 212 
Spring Lake, N. J. Exterior of St. Catherine’s Chapel 213 
Cincinnati, Ohio. Temple BenIsrael . . . - .- at 3 
Chicago, Ill. Isaiah Temple . . . . ak et 4. 


New York, N. Y. First Church of Christ, Scientist . 216 
New York, N. Y. Third Church of Christ, Scientist . 216 
Havana, Cuba. Trinity Cathedral . . . . . - 218 
Washington, D.C. Episcopal Cathedral. . . 218, 220 


Washington, D. C. Se Shrine of the Immacu- 
late Conception . . eee 221 


205, 6, 7, 8,9, 210 New York,N. Y. Cathedral of St. aie the Divine 222, 4, 5 


211 
212 
213, 214 


215 


Breai7, 215 . 


219 


Providence, R. I. Rhode Island State Capitol. . . 227 
St. Paul, Minn. Minnesota State Capitol ein oc ae ueay 
Madison, Wis. Wisconsin State Capitol. 2a ks viene. 2 g28 
Olympia; Wash.” Capitol Group’... 9 7 ee = 23? 
Lincoln, Neb. Nebraska State Capitol . . .  - 232, 233 
San Francisco, Calif. City Hall. 9-9... <- +) + (234 


XVIill LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


FIG. NO. PAGE 
220 . . .,.. San Francisco, Calif. Civic Centre as Ongindiiga aoe | 
posed 26 0. a 
221 . . ». . Tewksbury, Mass. Town Hall 9. 9s 
22 . . . . Peterborough, N. H. Town Hall. ©. 7) see 
223 aco 2 Weston, Mass. clownihi aime ae J 
224 . . . . Dallas, Texas. Highland Park City Hall > ee 
225 . . .... Qakland, Calif.. City Hallo) 3 
226 . . . . New York,N.Y. Municipal Building . . . . . 240 
227,228 . . . New York, N. Y.z County Court-House 3330) eee 
229 =. ~~... New York, N.Y. - MetropolitansMusediaass ae 
230, 231 . . . Boston, Mass. Museum of Fine Arts 90 yess 
230) we a. Philadelphia, (Pa. tise ee re 247 
233 . +... Cleveland, Ohio. Art Museum |) 9) 2) 
234,235... . Washington, D.C. Freer Art Gallery) 3 ee 
236 . . . . Rochester, N. Y. Univ. of Rochester Art Gallery.) 361 
237. . . . Minneapolis, Minn. - Museum of Fine Arts) ee 
238 ...... . NeweYork, N.Y. Morgan Tibeasy, eee 2a 
BAG en ac os New Haven, Conner ie bee: Pet Mu- 
BCUM «Nir ee eee 253 
240. 2 4. Cambridge, Mass atrvara a Univesity: New Fogg Art 
WMuosetni see 254 
240 =), .. -y -San Diego, Calif, hime cer Building SE el aa eae 
242,243. . . Santa Fé, N. M. Museum of Art 7) 
244,245 . . . Washington, D.C. National Academy of Sciences. . 254 
246,247 . . . Washington, D.C. Library of Congress . . . . 260 
248 . .-. . Boston, Mass.. Public Library > ee 
249,250,251 . . New York, N.Y. Public Library 9) ee ay 264, 265 
252. . .« . Detroit, Mich. Public Library” 3 
253,254 . . . New York, N. Y. Columbia University Library . . 267 
255,256 . . . Cambridge, Mass. Harvard University: Widener Me- ; 


morial Library . . . | . (0) ee 


FIG. NO. 


257 


258 
259 


460, 261, 262 . 


263, 264 
265 


266, 267, 268 . 


269, 270 
71, 272 
273 
274 
275, 276 
277 


278 
279 
280 
281 
282 
283 
284 
285 
286 
287 
288 


289, 290, 291 . 


292, 293 
294 
295 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


New Haven, Conn. Yale rane Proposed eee 
Library Awe tis: 


Waltham, Mass. Public Sarge 

La Jolla, Calif. Public Library 

Washington, D.C. Pan-American Union . . 9 Be 
Washington, D. C. Temple of the Scottish Rite 
Indianapolis, Ind. Indiana War Memorial . 

Kansas City, Mo. Liberty Memorial . . . . 279, 
Washington, D. C. Lincoln Memorial 

Washington, D. C. Proposed Roosevelt Memorial 

East St. Louis, Mo. Cahokia Power Station 

White City, Colo. Cold-Storage Plant 

Chicago, Ill. Pennsylvania Freight Terminal 


Detroit, Mich. Hudson Motor Car gnats Office 
Building 


Detroit, Mich. Detroit Evening D News Building 
Chicago, Il]. Donnelly & Sons’ Printing Plant . 
South Brooklyn, N. Y. U.S. Army Supply Base . 
New York, N. Y. Hell Gate Bridge . 

Camden, N. J. Delaware River Bridge . 
Boston, Mass. Proposed New Harvard Bridge 
Comparative Bridge Designs 

Camden, N. J. Delaware River Bridge . 
Washington, D. C. Arlington Memorial Bridge 
New York, N. Y. Pennsylvania Station 

New York, N. Y. Grand Central Station 
Chicago, Ill. Union Station 

Richmond, Va. Unica Station 

Ajo, Ariz. Railroad Station 

New York, N. Y. Lord & Taylor’s Building 


PAGE 


395 
3°7 
aoe 
329 


XX 


FIG. NO. 


296 


297] 
298 
ao 
300 
301 
302 
goo 
304 
goo 


306, 307, 308 . 


x See, 
310 


Rly gle 
313, 314 
315 
316 


Reale, ioe. 


320 
321 


322, 323 


324, 325, 326 . 


327, 328 
329, 33° 
331 
332 
333 
334 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


New York, N. Y. Addition to mae Store of 


R. H. Macy & Co. 
New York, N. Y. Tiffany Building 
New York, N. Y. Macmillan Building . 
Boston, Mass. Chickering Building . 
Los Angeles, Calif. Van Nuys Building . 
New York, N. Y. Art Shop, 56th Street . 
New York, N. Y. Maillard’s Shop 


New York, N. Y. Childs Building, Fifth Avenue . 


New York, N. Y. Weyhe’s Book Shop . 
New York, N. Y. Edison Shop 

New York, N. Y. Fifth Avenue Hospital 
Boston, Mass. Lying-In Hospital 


New York, N. Y. Columbia Prbytein Medical 


Center. 
New York, N. Y. cee Theatre . 
New York, N. Y. Neighbourhood Playhouse 
Chicago, Ill. American Theatre . 
Rochester, N. Y. Eastman Theatre . 
Rochester, N. Y. Eastman School of Music 
New York, N. Y. Capitol Theatre 
Chicago, Ill. Capitol Theatre 
Seattle, Wash. Fifth Avenue Theatre 
Boston, Mass. Metropolitan Theatre 
New York, N. Y. Hotel Commodore 
New York, N. Y. The Shelton Hotel 


Philadelphia, Pa. Athletic Club . 


Los Angeles, Calif. Biltmore Hotel . 
Albuquerque, N. M. Hotel Franciscan . 
Atlantic City, N. J. Hotel Traymore 


PAGE 


399 
399 
3°99 
312 
aig 
212 
12 
315 
315 
315 
318 


321 


321 . 
325 
326 
327 
327 
33° 
331 
331 
333 
335 
336 
337 
339 
339 
341 
341 


FIG. NO 


- 335» 336, 337 - 
338 

339 34° 

341 

342 

343 

iq 

345» 346 

347 

348, 349, 350 351 
352 

353 

354 

355 


356 
357 
358 
oa - 
360, 362 
361 
363 
364 
365 


366, 367, 368, 369 


37° 
371 
3723 373 374 - 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Xx1 


PAGE 


Tokio, Japan. Imperial Hotel . . . es 
New York, N. Y. The Knickerbocker Trust Co . . 344 
New York, N. Y. Bowery Savings Bank . . . 344, 346 
Dearie oS uM ONalbaniee Woy Pood os. 340 
Winona, Minn. Merchants Bank of Winona . . . 349 
Detroit, Mich. General Motors Building . . . . 351 
New York, N. Y. Marshall Field Building. . . . 351 
PrewierorceN eyo. otunatd OUUAING For) 8 Go 3 Bh8 
Diagrammatic Explanation of New York Zoning Law . 354 
Sketches by Hugh Ferriss) A Mass Envelope . . . 357 
Wew- YorksNiavetieckscher Building: 9.5) 44 AA 359 
New York, N. Y. Barclay-Vesey Building. . . . 3 59 
New York, N. Y. Air View of Lower Manhattan. . 359 
33d to 43d Streets between Sixth and Ninth Avenues, 

Pe way OTIC yee hy ec ok ey elias ni tomer gee 
Dercpieelich,. Air View." # cng one ee 
Sansbranciseo; Calif, — Air View ) 020) vata” ct fee ROI 
New York, N. Y. Woolworth Building. . . . . 364 
New York, N. Y. Bush Terminal Building . . . 364 
New York, N. Y. Chickering Building . . . . . 365 
New York, N. Y. American Radiator Building . . 365 
Chicago, Ill. Chicago Tribune Tower . » . - ~ 367 
Philadelphia, Pa. Elverson Building . . . . . 368 
St. Louis, Mo. Southwestern Bell seats ane 

Buiine = ee G05 
San Francisco, Calif. Pacific Telephon & eee 

Building? yyw eM eR ie cy 
A Skyscraper Design by Hugh Ferriss?) 2 oan | 
New York, N. Y. The Broadway Tabernacle . . . 371 
Drawings by Hugh Ferriss. . - - + + + + 373) 374 


CLASSIF{ED LIST OF MONUMENTS 


The references are to pages, not figure numbers; those in 
italics indicate illustrations; those in roman, text mention 


BANKS 


New York, N. Y.: Bowery Savings Bank, 344, 346, 347; Knickerbocker Trust Co., 
344, 345. 
Seattle, Wash.: Seattle National Bank, 347, 3709. 


Winona, Minn.: Merchants’ Bank of Winona, 348, 349. 


BRIDGES 


Boston, Mass.: New Harvard Bridge (Proposed), 297, 298. 

Camden, N. J.: Delaware River Bridge, 296, 299, 300. 

New York, N. Y.: Brooklyn Bridge, 295; Hell Gate Bridge, 296, 298. 

San Diego, Calif.: Panama-California International Exposition Bridge, 62, 64, 298. 


Washington, D. C.: Arlington Memorial Bridge, 299, 300. 


CAPITOLS AND TOWN HALLS 


Dallas, Texas: Highland Park City Hall, 237, 2379. 

Lincoln, Neb.: Nebraska State Capitol, 231, 2372, 233. 

Wiidison: Wis.: Wisconsin State Capitol, 228, 229. 

New York, N. Y.: City Hall (Government House), 31, 74; County Court House, 
241, 242; Municipal Building, 238, 240. 

Oakland, Calif.: City Hall, 238, 2¢0. 

Olympia, Wash.: Washington State Capitol, 229, 230. 

Peterborough, N. H.: Town House, 236, 237. 

Pittsburgh, Pa.: Allegheny County Court House and Gaol, 36. 


XX111 


XXIV CLASSIFIED LIST OF MONUMENTS 


Providence, R. I.: Rhode Island State House, 226, 227. 

Son Francisco, Calif.: City Hall, 234, 235; Civic Centre (as originally proposed), 
2345 235 

St. Paul, Minn.: Minnesota State House, 227, 229. 

Tewksbury, Mass.: Town Hall, 236, 237. 

Washington, D. C.: Capitol, 31; White House, 31. 

Weston, Mass.: Town Hall, 237, 239. 


CATHEDRALS, CHAPELS 
(See “‘Churches’’) 


CHURCHES 


Baltimore, Md.: Latrobe’s Cathedral, 31. 

Boston, Mass.: Leslie Lindsey Memorial Chapel, 205, 206; Trinity Church, 36, 37. 
Cambridge, Mass.: St. John’s Church, 209, 2Z0. 

Chicago, Ill.: Isaiah Temple, 274, 215. 

Cincinnati, Ohio: Temple Ben Israel, 273, 215. 

Havana, Cuba: Episcopal Cathedral of La Santissima Trinidad, 217, 278. 
Hingham, Mass.: “Old Ship”’ Church, 16. : 

Honolulu, Hawaii: Central Union Church, 202, 203. 

Lyme, Conn.: First Congregational Church, 199, 200, 207. 

Newburyport, Mass.: St. Paul’s Church, 199, 200. 


New York, N. Y.: Cathedral of St. John the Divine, 219, 222, 224, 225; Chapel of 
the Intercession, 205, 208; Church of St. Thomas, 207, 208, 209; First Church 
of Christ Scientist, 215, 276; Grace Church, 33; St. Bartholomew’s Church, 
211, 212; St. John of Nepomuk, 209, 270; St. Patrick's Cathedral, 33, 34; 
Third Church of Christ Scientist, 276, 217; Trinity Church, 33, 34. 

Peterboro, N. H.: All Saints’ Church, 203, 204. 

Pittsburgh, Pa.: First Baptist Church, 205, 207. 

Spring Lake, N. J.: Chapel of St. Catherine, 211, 273. 


Washington, D. C.: All Souls’ Church, 202, 203; Episcopal Cathedral, 278, 219, 220; 
Shrine of the Immaculate Conception (Proposed), 219, 22Z. 


CLASSIFIED -LIST OF MONUMENTS XXV 
CITY HALLS | 
(See “Capitols and Town Halls”) 


CLUBS 


Knollwood, N. C.: Mid-Pines Country Club, 96, 97. 

Locust Valley, N. Y.: Piping Rock Country Club, 154, 755. 
New York, N. Y.: University Club, 154. 

Philadelphia, Pa.: Philadelphia Athletic Club, 338, 339- 


COURT HOUSES 
(See “Capitols and Town Halls”) 


EXPOSITIONS 


Buffalo, N. Y.: Pan-American Exposition, Electric Tower, 50, 51; Building of 
Graphic Arts, Horticulture and Agriculture, 51; New York State Building, 
50, SI. 

Chicago, Ill.: World’s Columbian Exposition, 42, 43; Administration Building, 38, 
39; Agricultural Building, 44, 45; Court of Honour, 42, 44, £5; Fine Arts Build- 
ing, 44, 48; Horticultural Building, 42; Manufactures and Liberal Arts Build- 
ing, 44, 40; Plan of Exposition, 44, go; Transportation Building, 42, 47, 45, 79- 

Omaha, Neb.: “Trans-Mississippi”” Exposition, Government Building, 49, 50. 

Philadelphia, Pa.: Centennial Exposition, Agricultural Building, 40, gz; Art Gal- 
lery, 40, 47; Horticultural Hall, 40; Machinery Hall, 40, g7; Main Exhibition 
Building, 40; Michigan State Building, 40, 43. 

Plans of Expositions, 52. 

San Diego, Calif.: Panama-California International Exposition, 58, 61; Bridge and 
California State Building, 63, 64, 65; Laguna de las Flores, 64; New Mexico 
Building, 66, 67. é 

San Francisco, Calif.: Panama-Pacific Exposition, 58, 59; Arch of the Rising Sun, 
9, 60; Cloister of the Court of Abundance, 61, 62; Horticultural Hall, 61, 62; 
Rotunda and Palace of Fine Arts, 59; Tower of Jewels, 59, 60. 

Seattle, Wash.: Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exposition, California Building, 56, 57; Per- 
spective, 57. 


XXV1 CLASSIFIED LIST OF MONUMENTS 


St. Louis, Mo.: Louisiana Purchase Exposition, Festival Hall and Cascades, 53, 54; 
~ Machinery Hall, 53; Palace of Agriculture, 51, 54; Palace of Arts, 53, 55; Pal- 
ace of Manufactures, 53; Palace of Transportation, 53; Palace of Varied In- 
dustries, 53. 
HOSPITALS 

Boston, Mass.: Lying-In Hospital, 319, 327. 

New York, N. Y.: Columbia-Presbyterian Medical Center, 320, 321 Fifth Avenue 
Hospital, 378, 319. 


HOTELS 


Albuquerque, N. M.: Hotel Franciscan, 340, 3¢7. 
Atlantic City, N. J.: Hotel Traymore, 340, 347. 
Los Angeles, Calif.: Biltmore Hotel, 339, 340. 


New York, N. Y.: Hotel Commodore, 334, 376; Shelton Hotel, 337, 338; Savoy- 
Plaza Hotel, 74, 75, 338. 


St. Louis, Mo.: St. Nicholas Hotel, 79, So. 
Tokio, Japan: Hotel Imperial, 79, 342, 343. 


HOUSES AND ESTATES 


Asheville, N. C.: Biltmore House, 37, 38. 

Atlanta, Ga.: Residence, 96, 97. 

Atlantic Heights, Portsmouth, N. H.: War Emergency Industrial Village, 150, 757. 
Beverley Hills, Calif.: ““Dias Dorados,” 103, 705. 

Cambridge, Mass.: Vassall House, 29, 30. 

Camden, N. J.: Yorkship Village, 152. 

Charlottesville, Va.: “Monticello,” 22, 23. 


Chestnut Hill, Pa.: Frazier House, 114, 775; French Village, 116, 777; House, 116, 
720; Peck House, 114, 775; Stotesbury Estate, 130, 737. 


Chicago, Ill.: Louis Sullivan’s Residence, 79, So. | 

Coral Gables, Fla.: Humphrey House, 109, 770; Venetian Casino, 708, 109. 
Dedham, Mass.: Fairbanks House, 16, 77, 89. 

Exeter, R. I.: House, 89, go. 


CLASSIFIED LIST OF MONUMENTS XXV11 


Falmouth, Mass.: House, go, 91. 
Farmington, Conn.: Bissell House, 93, 95. 
Fieldston, N. Y.: Furnald Residence, 93, 94. 


Germantown, Pa.: Chew House (‘‘Cliveden’’), 24, 27; House on Cliveden Avenue, 
98, 700. 


Glen Cove, L. I.: Aldred Estate, 727, 129. 

Great Barrington, Mass.: Walker Estate, 135, 730. 
Ithan, Pa.: Meigs House, 98, Zoo. 

Jaffrey, N. H.: Emery House, 91, 92. 

Jericho, L. I.: Maynard Estate, 130, 732. 
Lakeville, N. Y.: Sherman Estate, 728, 129. 
Laverock, Pa.: Newbold Farm, 116, 778, 720. 
Locast Valley, L. L.: Ryan Estate, 727, 129. 

1353 237s 139: 

New Canaan, Conn.: Vanderhoof Residence, 98, 99. 


’ 


Miami, Fla.: “ Vizcaya,’ 


New Orleans, La.: “‘Cabildo,” 26, 28; Lyons House, Iot, 7o2. 

Newport, R. I.: Busk Residence, 38, 39; Duncan House, 772, 113. 

Newport News, Va.: Hilton Village, 152, 753. 

New York, N. Y.: Apartment at 277 Park Avenue, 147, 748; Brill House, 144, 745; 
Dyckman House, 24, 27; Frick House, 141; Houses on Park Avenue, 74}, 144, 
745; Pratt House, 141, 742; Upper Fifth Avenue, 141, 743, 147, 748; Villard 
Houses, 141, 742. 

Palm Beach, Fla.: Phipps House, 106, 708. 

Pasadena, Calif.: Coppell House, 702, 103, 704; Jefferson House, 103, 705. 

Philadelphia, Pa.: Hamilton House (“Woodlands”), 22, 25. 

Plainfield, N. H.: Breed Farm, 125, 726. 

Riverside, Ill.: Coonley House, 79, 82, 123. 

Rockville, Conn.: Maxwell Court, 135, 736. 

Santa Barbara, Calif.: Heberton House, 106, 707. 

Santa Fé, N. M.: Old Governor’s Palace, 26, 28, 103, 255. 

Saugus, Mass.: Scotch-Boardman House, 1g 7 

Sparkhill, N. Y.: Fallon House, 98, 99. 


XXVIIl CLASSIFIED LIST OF MONUMENTS 


Springgreen, Wis.: Wright House, 727, 123. 
St. Martins, Pa.: Group for Dr. George Woodward, 119, 7275 Reynolds House, 116, 
117; Seabreeze, Z70, 111. 


Syosset, L. I.: Kahn Estate, 133, 734. 

Taos, N. M.: Pueblo Village, 67. 

Washington, D. C.: L’Enfant’s Plan of City, 29, 32. 
“Westover, on the James River, Va., 29, 30. 


Wheatley Hills, L. I., Whitney Estate, 133, 734. 


LIBRARIES 


Boston, Mass.: Boston Public Library, 31, 259, 262. 

Cambridge, Mass.: Widener Memorial Library (Harvard Univ.), 266, 268. 
Detroit, Mich.: Public Library, 263, 265. 

La Jolla, Calif.; Public Library, 271, 272. 

New Haven, Conn.: Sterling Library (Proposed), (Yale Univ.), 269, 270. 


New York, N. Y.: Columbia University Library, 263, 267; Morgan Library, 250, 
253; Public Library, 261, 264, 205. 


St. Paul, Minn.: Public Library, 263. 
Waltham, Mass.: Public Library, 269, 270. 
Washington, D. C.: Library of Congress, 259, 260. 


LOFT BUILDINGS 
(See “Office Buildings”’) 


MEMORIALS AND MONUMENTS 


Baltimore, Md.: Washington Monument, 31. 
Chicago, Ill.: Getty Tomb, 79, 97. 

Indianapolis, Ind.: Indiana War Memorial, 277, 279. 
Kansas City, Mo.: Liberty Memorial, 277, 279, 250. 


Washington, D. C.: Lincoln Memorial, 31, 278, 287; Pan-American Union, 271, 
272, 273; Roosevelt Memorial (Proposed), 31, 282, 283; Temple of the Scot- 
tish Rite, 31, 274, 276; Washington Monument, 31. 


CLASSIFIED LIST OF MONUMENTS Xx1X 
MUSEUMS 


Boston, Mass.: Museum of Fine Arts, 245, 246, 247. 

Brunswick, Me.: Walker Art Gallery (Bowdoin Coll.), 248. 

Cambridge, Mass.: Fogg Museum of Art, 243, 252, 254. 

Cleveland, Ohio: Art Museum, 247, 248. 

Minneapolis, Minn.: Museum of Fine Arts, 250, 257. 

New Haven, Conn.: Peabody Museum of Natural History (Yale Univ.), 250, 253. 

New York, N. Y.: Metropolitan Museum, 244, 246. 

Philadelphia, Pa.: Art Museum, 245, 277. 

Rochester, N. Y.: Memorial Art Gallery (Univ. of Rochester), 248, 257. 

San Diego, Calif.: Fine Arts Building, 252, 254. 

Santa Fé, N. M.; Museum of Art, 252, 256. 

Washington, D. C.: Freer Gallery of Art, 248, 249; National Academy of Sciences, 
255, 257: | 


OFFICE BUILDINGS AND OTHER COMMERCIAL ARCHITECTURE 


Boston, Mass.: Chickering & Sons, 311, 372. 

Chicago, Ill.: Chicago Tribune Tower, 5, 363, 367; Second-Prize Design for Tribune 
Tower, 74, 75, 366; Donnelly & Sons’ Printing Plant, 293, 294; Pennsylvania 
Freight Terminal, 290, 291. 

Detroit, Mich.: Air View, 358, 767; Detroit Evening News, 291, 292; General Motors, 
348, 357; Hudson Motor Car Co., 291, 292. 


East St. Louis, Mo.: Cahokia Power Station, 288, 289. 
El Paso, Tex.: Mills Building, 87, 83. 
Los Angeles, Calif.: Van Nuys Building (Art Shop), 311, 372. 


New York, N. Y.: Air View, 358, 359, 760; American Radiator Building; 363, 365; 
Art Shop, 311, 372; Barclay-Vesey Building, 356, 3593 Broadway Tabernacle 
(Proposed), 369, 777; Bush Terminal Building, 362, 364; Chickering Building, 
363, 365; Child’s, 313, 375; Cunard Building, 348, 3525 Edison Co. Shop, 313; 
315; “Flatiron” Building, 77, 72; Heckscher Building, 356, 359; Lord & Tay- 
lor Building, 308, 309; Macmillan Building, 309, 310; Macy & Co. (Addition 
to Store), 308, 3709; Maillard’s Shop, 372, 3133 Marshall Field Building, 350, 
351; Modern Steel Building Nearly Finished, 77, 72, 353; Metropolitan Life 


XXX ~ CLASSIFIED LIST OF MONUMENTS 


Insurance Co., 77, 73, 362; Office and Convocation Building, 369, Frontispiece; 
Singer Building, 362; Tiffany Building, 308, 309; Tribune Building, 38, 39; 
Weyhe’s Book Shop, 313, 375; Woolworth Building, 10, 362, 364; Yamanaka’s, 
310. 


Philadelphia, Pa.: Elverson Building, 366, 368. 

San Francisco, Calif.: Air View, 358, 767; Pacific Telephone and Telegraph Build- 
ing, 366, 370, 372. 

So. Brooklyn, N. Y.: U. S. Army Supply Base, 293, 294. 


St. Louis, Mo.: Fagin Building, 70, 77; Southwestern Bell Telephone Co. Building, 
366, 368. . 


White City, Colo.: Cold-Storage Plant, 288, 289. 


RAILROAD STATIONS 
Ajo, Ariz.: Railroad Station, 306, 307. 
Chicago, IIl.: Union Station, 304, 705. 
New York, N. Y.: Grand Central Station, 10, 702, 303; Pennsylvania Station, 302, 
303: 
Richmond, Va.: Union Station, 304, 307. 


SCHOOLS 


(See “Universities ’’) 


STADIA 


Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Stadium, 184, 785. 
Los Angeles, Calif.: Coliseum, 186, 789. 

New Haven, Conn.: Yale Bowl, 184, 7385. 

New York, N. Y.: Yankee Stadium, 184, 787. 


Philadelphia, Pa.: American Stadium (Franklin Field, Univ. of Pennsylvania), 184, 
185. 


STATE-HOUSES 
(See “Capitols and Town Halls”) 


CLASSIFIED LIST OF MONUMENTS XXX1 
THEATRES 


Boston, Mass.: Metropolitan Theatre, 332, 335. 


Chicago, Ill.: American Theatre, 327, 328; Auditorium Building, 77, 78; Capitol 
Theatre, 337, 332. 


New York, N. Y.: Capitol Theatre, 329, 337; Century Theatre, 323, 725; Neigh- 
bourhood Playhouse, 326, 328; Roxy Theatre, 332. 


Rochester, N. Y.: Eastman Theatre, 327, 328, 330. 
Seattle, Wash.: Fifth Avenue Theatre, 332, 333. 


TOWN HALLS 
(See “Capitols and Town Halls”’) 


UNIVERSITIES AND SCHOOLS 


Boston, Mass.: Boston College, 176, 778. 


Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University, 160, 179, 780; Harvard University Gradu- 
ate School of Business Administration, 157, 162, 764; Competition Drawings 
for same, 162, 766, 767, 769; Mower Hall, 161, 763; Memorial Hall, 3Q- Yard, 
160, 763; Massachusetts Institute of Technology, 179, 780. 


Chicago, IIl.: University of Chicago, 755, 159. 

Denver, Colo.: East High School, 189, 792. 

Galveston, Tex.: Goliad School, 189, zgz. 

Greenfield, Ohio: Edward Lee McClain High School, 188, zgo. 
Hanover, N. H.: Dartmouth College, 168, 770. 

Houston, Tex.: Rice Institute, 176, 778. 

New Haven, Conn.: Yale University, 171, 774, 774. 
Pittsburgh, Pa.: University of Pittsburgh, Re ops gee 
Princeton, N. J.: Princeton University, 171, 772. 


West Point, N. Y.: U. S. Military Academy, 173, 777. 


| 


— ‘ 


OPMENT OF AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE _ fe 


- 
a) 

a A 
q Pa. ee 


. 
. = * 
‘ 
. * 
. ‘ 
% 
. ‘ ; 
. sf 
. 
i P 
. 
. 
. : x 
’ . 
al 
‘ 
' 
oy 
haw c * * 


I 
THE DEVELOPMENT OF AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE 


Tue bane of every contemplative or analytical work is the necessity 
of beginning with a definition. In our case we cannot proceed without 
considering the meaning of the word “modern.” It may be taken in two 
senses. Used by one writer, it means contemporary; by another, radical. 
Discussing the tendencies of modern architecture with a distinguished 
critic of conservative bent, the writer mentioned the theories and prac- 
tice of Frank Lloyd Wright. In reply he was told that this phenome- 
non was not a modern tendency, but a modern freak. The same day, 
another distinguished critic advised that it would be improper to include 
any mention of the Lincoln Memorial in a series of lectures on modern 
architecture, as there was nothing “modern”. about it. By modern he 
meant what it might be clearer to call “modernist.” At the outset, there- 
fore, let us agree that by modern we mean contemporary. Modern 
American architecture includes all the architecture of America which has 
recently been built, or is being built to-day. It includes the conserva- 
tive and the radical, the archeological and the original. To limit mod- 
ern architecture to that which seems to embody what are called mod- 
ernistic tendencies would be not only foolish, but arrogant. The archi- 
tecture which to-day is regarded as unprogressive, a generation from 
now may be in the van, and no man, be he layman, critic, or designer, 
can pass an infallible judgment, or even. make a good guess, as to what 
is to be the architecture of the future. Modern American architecture is 
the American architecture of to-day. se 

As architecture, however, it stands or falls on its own merits, with- 
out reference to the past. Let no designer defend his work on the ground 
that it 1s historically correct. The proud owner in a smoking-jacket, who 
plumes himself in his “pure Louis Quinze drawing-room,” makes a fool, 
not only of himself, but of his architect—at least, so long as he bases 
his satisfaction on the stylistic “correctness” of his:room. On the other 


“ 


4 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


hand, if he bases it upon the beauty of the room, quite aside from his- 
torical reference, he has a good case, although there is no question that 
there is less life in an imitative work than in one that is designed origi- 
nally, with imagination and a fresh eye. 

Although the merit of modern architecture can never depend upon 
its correctness with relation to the art of the past, an understanding of 
it involves a familiarity with the art of the past, its character, develop- 
ment, problems, and successes or failures. In a book on modern archi- 
tecture, work of the past should be stressed as little as possible, but 
some historical discussion is necessary to understand the tendencies of 
to-day. Behind even the most radical work there is a development which 
must be understood, if we are to understand what we are trying to do 
and whither we are going. In certain categories of modern architecture, 
especially domestic, constant reference to the past is inevitable. 

Our first task must be, therefore, to trace as concisely as possible the 
development of American architecture, with its tendencies both conser- 
vative and radical, from its beginnings to the present time. We must 
remember as we do this, that we do it solely to understand the art of 
to-day, and not as an historical exercise, nor as an attempt to prophesy 
the architecture of the future. We are concerned with to-day, not yes- 
terday, nor to-morrow. ‘To-morrow, to be sure, intrigues us. We are 
tempted to speculate about it, but we can do so to little profit. Presi- 
dent Lowell, of Harvard, in the introduction to one of his books on gov- 
ernment, humorously attacked the commonplace conception of the gov- 
ernment as a “ship of state.” We can paraphrase him freely as follows. 
A government is not a ship, nor in any way like a ship. A government 
might better be likened to a coach. The coach is drawn by powerful 
horses who are running away. On the box a strong man is attempting 
to guide the team, while several other strong men try to take the reins 
away from him. Within are a number of passengers who display not 
the slightest interest in the behaviour or the progress of the coach, but 
in the rumble are several old gentlemen with spy-glasses who, by an in- 
tent scrutiny of the road behind, are attempting to prophesy the char- 
acter of the road ahead. These old gentlemen may make some shrewd 
forecasts, but it is not our purpose here to join them. The historian is 
as well qualified as any, and is perhaps better qualified than most, to un- 


THE DEVELOPMENT OF AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE : ¢ 


derstand the present. Any man, however, lay or expert, who pretends 
to prognosticate the future, is a charlatan, unconscious or no. 

If we cannot ignore history, no more can we ignore the theories of 
architecture, current and past. At every step we shall be forced to make 
zesthetic judgments and, if we are honest, we shall demand a basis for 
these. In so doing, we shall inevitably run the risk of becoming en- 
trapped by the fallacious zxsthetic theories of past and present. This 
very desire to have a definite basis for xsthetic judgment has caused the 
great philosophers of art, one by one, to erect their systems and create 
an infallible philosophy by which masters may be judged, yet one by one, 
like Theudas and his four hundred, they have gone their way. 

Many of their ideas have lingered, however, and are quoted, from 
authority or as original, to-day. Perhaps at the start we could do noth- 
ing more constructive than to clear the garret of our minds of some of 
the old lumber of esthetic theory. Four of the most insistent of the 
old fallacies have been brilliantly, if somewhat maliciously, exposed by 
Mr. Geoffrey Scott.* Since the ideas which they involve will recur con- 
stantly in our discussion, it is worth while to mention them. Of the four, 
the least important is what the author calls the “biological fallacy.” By 
this he means the belief, so persistent among critics, that every phase of 
architecture or style runs through a biological revolution, involving birth, 
growth, bloom, and decay. There is a basis for the theory if it be not 
pushed too far, and we must realise the continuity of art history and the - 
relation of style to style. We must, on the other hand, rid ourselves 
of the belief that the phase of a style which is late in its development 
must, zpso facto, be decadent. For such a reason, flamboyant (late 
Gothic) and baroque (late Renaissance) architecture have been bitterly 
and absurdly condemned. To be sure, progressive thinkers nowadays 
have abandoned such a belief, but many laymen and not a few architects 
even to-day will condemn flamboyant Gothic on the ground of the false 
biological analogy. When this condemnation is extended to include a 
modern building, like the Chicago Tribune Tower, which uses a flam- 
boyant Gothic vocabulary, injustice and, worse still, confusion is bound 
to ensue. Note that this confusion arises when the attack is made not on 
the grounds of a too archzological treatment, which involves an entirely 


* The Architecture of Humanism, London, 1924. 


6 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


different question, but on the grounds of the historic position and ex- 
pression of the archzological source. 

The so-called “romantic fallacy” in modern taste and judgment is 
far more dangerous. ‘Romanticism may be said to consist in a high de- 
velopment of poetic sensibility towards the remote as such.”* In archi- 
tecture it is responsible for reversions to styles with poetic literary asso- 
ciations in the past. Its most obvious manifestation was the Gothic re- 
vival of the nineteenth century. Ina less obvious way its spirit is respon- 
sible for much that is deliberately exotic or theatrical in our art. With 
the most sincere motives in the world, an artist may study, let us say, the 
medizval farm and attempt to attain in modern expression a group the 
charm of which is got by simulating the conditions which produced the 
ancient building and, thus, its forms. Charm there may be, but it may 
be as much the charm of historic association as of actual design. If the 
former, it will be lost as soon as taste changes and we cease to have pleas- 
ant romantic associations with a medieval farm. Even before then, the 
effect for the thoughtful is marred: by an inevitable theatricality. Nev- 
ertheless, the. human mind will never purge itself of all poetic and lit- 
erary interests and associations. Their presence in a work of art should 
not condemn it. To the contrary, they are legitimate aids to esthetic en- 
joyment, provided they be aids and not principals. The moment they 
appear as substitutes for the fundamentals of design, however, the ulti- 
mate zsthetic value of the building is doomed. 

Much more dangerous in modern times is what has been called the 
“mechanical fallacy.” This theory would have us believe that true 
beauty lies in the satisfactory solution of structural problems and, sec- 
ondarily, in the frank revelation of the means by which these problems 
have been met. The ideal example which the protagonists of the the- 
ory would point out is the French Gothic cathedral of the thirteenth cen- 
tury. It has been said, on the whole correctly, that the truest zsthetic 
expression of the French Gothic cathedral of the thirteenth century lies 
in the logical way it is constructed and the scrupulous honesty with which 
the structural system is revealed. 


* Scott, of. cts p. 39, 
{ The theory is advanced in its most glorified and convincing form by C. H.. Moore 
in his Gothic Architecture, 2d ed., New York, 1909. 


THE DEVELOPMENT OF AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE : 7 


Yet such a theory has grave limitations. It ignores the zxsthetic val- 
ues of form, balance, and harmonious relation of part to part, wherein 
may lie the real value of the Gothic cathedral and which may have been 
attained unconsciously in the pursuit of a logical structural solution. 
Moreover, it takes no account of the many beautiful buildings, even con- 
temporary Gothic ones like those of England, which attain a magnifi- 
cent artistic success without following the logical organic system of the 
French. Lastly, one cannot be sure whether the xsthetic effect of French 
Gothic depends upon. its logical revelation of structure or its apparent reve- 
lation, a very different matter. Let us examine one concrete example. 
The French double flying buttress is supposed to be a logically revealed 
solution of the problem of meeting the active and concentrated thrust 
of a Gothic vault. Since a continuous abutment along the whole vault 
is impractical, the fully developed flying buttress is given the form of 
two slender arches, designed to take the thrusts at the two conspicuous 
danger points of an arch or a vault: the springing and the haunch. Now, 
we think of a French Gothic cathedral as an organic composition, in scien- 
tifically cut stone, with vaults, ribs, supports, and abutments scientifically 
and skilfully related one to another. We forget that a very important 
part of the building is its towering roof, steep-pitched and lead-covered, 
carried on walls which project above the crowns of the stone vaults which 
are to be covered. How strange, ungainly, and awkward a great Gothic 
building can look without its roof was unhappily shown at Reims, in 
1914, after the first bombardment had destroyed the roof, but before the 
vaults were blown in. Photographs show it a paradox: a great Gothic 
cathedral with its accent in design upon the horizontal balustrade which 
crowned the wall and formerly appeared as a decorative point of spring- 
ing for the great pitched roof. Yet at this stage of the monument’s de- 
struction, all the stonework, all that we could call its “organic” architec- 
ture, was preserved. 

The first bombardment revealed, however, another feature most up- 
setting to the orthodox theory of structural honesty. A double buttress, 
properly placed against the walls of a roofed cathedral, looks low. The 
upper arch, to catch the thrusts even of the haunch, must be placed a 
considerable distance below the balustrade. Caused by the fact that the 
wall is raised high above the springing of the vaults, however, and the 


8 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


bulky, lofty roof which it carries, the eye imagines a mass of material 
much higher than actually exists in a building. Buttresses placed, there- 
fore, low enough properly to exercise their function as perfectly as pos- 
sible, appear to be placed dangerously low. When at Reims the burn- 
ing of the roof exposed the upper surface of the vaults, it was for the 
first time observed that the designers had deliberately placed the upper 
tier of buttresses too high. They are so high that they abut the wall 
above the vaults, instead of the vaults themselves. Since flying buttresses 
have themselves an active thrust inward, there was a danger of their 
pushing in the wall on top of the vaults. To eliminate this danger, flat 
arches or beams of stone were thrown across the nave, above the vaults, 
from the upper buttresses on one side to those on the other. For some 
seven centuries all the upper buttresses at Reims have been thrusting at 
one another, across the nave, and playing no structural réle in the build- 
ing whatever. They were deliberately so placed, at the expense of struc- 
tural logic, in order to give its appearance. In this, as in every other 
period of great design, the architect has resorted to deception, backed by 
safe engineering, to secure an effect that would satisfy the eye. 

The mechanical fallacy, or, if we approve it, the mechanical theory, 
has loomed large in the criticism of modern American architecture. The 
analogies, most of them superficial, between Gothic architecture and steel 
construction made it inevitable. Almost as soon as the first timid at- 
tempts in the “Chicago construction” appeared, critics at home and abroad 
began insisting upon the desirability of the design revealing in the sky- 
scraper the system of construction which made it possible. The criti- 
cism was provoked partly by the logic of the theory and partly by the 
ugliness of the first examples, when a new form of construction had been 
invented, but design had had no time to study the problems which it pre- 
sented. Obviously, it was necessary to study the new structures in a new 
way from the point of view of design, and arrive at an expression perti- 
nent to the new type and as different from anything else as was the type 
itself from what had gone before. This is being done by some in ob- 
servance of the tenets of the mechanical theory, by others ignoring them. 
One thing, as we shall see, is certain: the theory of structural revelation 
may be applied, and successfully applied, to the problem of the sky- 
scraper, but there is no necessity which imposes it, and perfect solutions 
of the problem may be found in other ways. 


THE DEVELOPMENT OF AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE 0 


The fourth of the great fallacies mentioned by Scott, the ethical, will 
probably never be eliminated entirely from criticism. On the other hand, 
it will probably never again be reiterated with such savage dogmatism as 
appears in the writings of John Ruskin. In essence, this theory con- 
fuses with art, ideas of morality, conduct, and ethics with which it has 
nothing to do. Ruskin’s sweeping condemnation of Renaissance archi- 
tecture as “immoral” brings the matter home in its clearest light. Of 
course we should not belittle the work of the great critic. He was an 
evangelist of the fine arts, and by his art of English composition—as 
great and constructive an art as any he used it to defend—he converted 
thousands who might otherwise have gone through life with eyes shut 
to beauty. His work now, however, is done; his theories obsolete. In 
modern life they are a stumbling-block rather than an aid. 

Yet they have survived in countless catchwords which are constantly 
used as gospel by the thoughtless and, indeed, by those who consider 
themselves thinkers. ‘Take, for example, such a phrase as “Truth is 
beauty; beauty is truth.” Approach any cultivated gentleman and ask 
him if it is not fundamentally sound to say that truth is beauty. There 
are nine hundred and ninety-nine chances in a thousand that he will assent, 
grave as an owl, thinking himself confirming an axiom, using his mind 
not at all. For truth has nothing to do, necessarily, with beauty, nor 
beauty with truth. If I say, “We are such stuff as dreams are made on 
and our little life is rounded with a sleep,” I utter a truth, which is beau- 
tiful because framed by a great artist. If I say, “The Japs are a won- 
derful little people,” I say what is equally true, but trite in form and 
dull by repetition. If I say, “A certain critic of my acquaintance is an 
unmitigated bounder,” I utter a truth as sound as gospel, but nothing of 
beauty. The truth, beautifully expressed, is beautiful. So may a lie be. 
If it is possible to build an ugly thing, it is possible to do so truthfully. 
Truth as an abstract concept is beautiful; as a concrete fact it may be beau- 
tiful, dull, or ugly. Not until we cease to throw ourselves into a state 
of self-hypnosis with words shall we be able truly to comprehend and esti- 
mate the eternal verities of beauty and art. 

The function of architecture is twofold and can be stated in the sim- 
plest terms. Architecture must be practical and beautiful. It is a pro- 
fession and an art. In this it is distinguished chiefly from the sister arts 
of sculpture and painting, and it is the practical side of architecture which 


fe) THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


has made it the most precocious of the arts. It is very noticeable in any 
great artistic period that the various arts do not appear or culminate simul- 
taneously, but in a sequence which is fairly constant in each revolution 
of civilisation. Music, for example, is a laggard art as well as a gracious 
one, that 1s apt to illuminate the end of an era. One can hardly, for ex- 
ample, date the beginning of the Renaissance in music before the time of 
Palestrina, yet the beginning of the architectural Renaissance in the same 
period would take us back to Brunelleschi, a century earlier. 

The precocity of architecture proves its practicality. Men must house 
themselves before they think of delighting their eyes with sculpture or 
painting, and the first problem of architecture is the practical one. From 
its earliest beginnings, its success must be gauged in large part according 
to its solution of the practical needs of its clients. Nevertheless, consid- 
erations of beauty entered almost as soon as those of use, and the good 
designer in all ages has been occupied equally with both. Architecture 
which fails in either is bad, for practicality can no more excuse ugliness 
than can beauty of form destroy the evil impression that comes from re- 
vealed stupidity on the practical side. 

The practical aspect of architecture is not, however, merely an zs- 
thetic liability. Even from the esthetic point of view, the sense of a sat- 
isfactory solution of practical needs has’ value. This leads us to consider 
a little more in detail the problems of architecture which the modern de- 
signer has to meet. Their enormous complexity needs especially to be 
stressed to a lay audience. The architect, to be sure, is only too bitterly 
alive to the difficulties of his problem, but the average layman is blithely 
unconscious of them. In making comparisons, oftentimes odious, between 
the great designers of the past and those of to-day, we too often forget 
that the problems of the past were almost childish compared to those which 
face the practitioner in modern times. Even giants like Michelangelo 
or Wren, when they built St. Peter’s or St. Paul’s, were confronted with 
problems of infantile simplicity as compared to those which. were met by 
Warren and Wetmore in the Grand Central Station, or by Cass Gilbert 
in the Woolworth Building. Many elements produce this fact. Special- 
ised function, for example, has enormously complicated the problem. In 
the Middle Ages men built churches, fortresses, dwellings, and town 
halls. ‘These offered comparatively simple problems and satisfied prac- 


THE DEVELOPMENT. OF AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE 11 


tically all needs. Moreover, within the building functionalism scarcely 
existed. What was the dining-room at one time might, without altera- 
tion, be used for another function at another time. Also, the same great 
hall was used for many functions. Even in so splendid and enlightened 
an era as the age of Louis XIV, the functionalism of rooms at Versailles 
was little regarded. It was not until the eighteenth century that prob- 
lems of function, diversified communication, and the real comfort of the 
occupant began to be studied. In a homely way the truth can be brought 
home to us rather vividly when we remember that such an obvious mod- 
ern necessity as the flushable toilet was forgotten from the Minoan age 
to the latter part of the eighteenth century. Yet even by the end of the 
eighteenth century the problems were still very simple. 

Contrast this with the facts to-day. Even the simplest architectural 
problem, the dwelling, has developed a complication undreamed of a few 
generations ago. Any one who has built even a modest house, or com- 
missioned one to be built for him, will know the complexity of things to 
be considered. The character and arrangement of the heating plant, the 
plumbing, ventilating, wiring, the arrangements for electric outlets, tele- 
phones, etc., make the design, even of a moderate dwelling, a serious piece 
of work. And if this unzsthetic and dull work be not well done, how 
quickly the wrath of the client falls upon the head of the architect! In 
a work on a small scale, all this must be done in addition to making the 
house beautiful, both within and without. 

If the moderate dwelling has become, comparatively speaking, so com- 
plicated, what, then, of the highly specialised, modern types of monu- 
mental and commercial buildings? The modern school-building, for ex- 
ample, offers a special problem so distinct that certain architects have made 
it their field and become specialists in it, much as a physician specialises in 
certain diseases. The theatre, with its immensely complicated stage ma- 
chinery, lighting system, and considerations of acoustics, has no precedent 
in history before the time of Victor Louis. Still more striking are the 
complexities of the great railroad terminal, the great department store, 
and the commercial skyscraper, which is in itself a combined town and 
vertical railway. 

Moreover, other considerations than those of function enter to com- 
plicate an already amazingly complicated problem. Modern materials, 


12 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


especially, are very different from those of the past. Steel construction 
has unloosed possibilities of scale and altitude which have revolutionised 
the art. Concrete, and especially concrete reinforced with steel, has added 
another entirely new element. Engineering skill and invention, forging 
ahead at railroad rate, have produced such phenomena as the high-speed 
elevator, again revolutionising architectural design. Similarly, rapid and 
easy communication within the city, with the suburbs, and with the coun- 
try, have produced enormous concentrations of population diurnally within 
limited districts, bringing with them a host of difficulties undreamed of 
in the past. Even in the use of materials familiar through centuries, the 
problem is a new one, for the architect may use, if taste and expediency 
demand it, materials from almost any source and brought from almost any 
distance. The Romans used travertine partly because it was a beautiful 
and easily worked building stone, but largely because it was ready to hand. 
We can use it without hesitation, if we so choose, even though we have to 
send to the Campagna to get it. The extent to which the designer should 
use local material is, therefore, only one of the many decisions he is called 
upon to make. 

All this makes the position of the modern architect, and especially the 
American architect, entirely different from anything that it has ever been 
in the past. Though he were an encyclopedic genius, with a mind like 
Leonardo da Vinci’s, it is inconceivable that he should design all of his 
building, with all of its component parts, as an individual so designed it 
in the Middle Ages or the Renaissance. He cannot design the bulk of 
a skyscraper and, at the same time, its machinery for elevators, for heat- 
ing, for plumbing, and for lighting. He must call in assistance for all 
of these things, and he must consider his building with relation to its 
neighbours. He must employ and co-operate with the engineer in his many 
specialties, and even, in many cases, with the lawyer, the sociologist, the 
sanitary expert. He must be the able administrator and the chairman of 
a board of experts. Withal, he must be the artist, attaining these things, 
yet steadfastly keeping before his eye the purpose and the ideal of his 
profession—the ultimate beauty of the thing he creates. 

The attainment of beauty is, after all, the most important of the 
many functions of an architect. Were this not so, the able business man 
might be substituted for him. Without beauty, there is no architecture, 


eee yRLOPMENT OF AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE 13 


and it is this most intangible of qualities that we employ an architect to 
attain. His means to attain it are form and colour. From his earliest 
training, he must think in terms of three dimensions. He must reach 
harmonies in solids, thinking of his design simultaneously in plan and ele- 
vation. He has also at his disposal.colour and texture, though these are 
subordinate to mass and proportion. 

The importance of colour, however, has been neglected in architec- 
ture and especially in the United States. The reasons for this are mani- 
fold, but probably in the United States the chief difficulty has been the 
inaccessibility of great polychromatic architectural monuments. The Amer- 
ican student of architecture, since Colonial times, has derived much of his 
knowledge from books and printed illustrations. With consistent respect 
for the achievements of the past, he has studied his reproductions consci- 
entiously, learning proportion, refinement, delicacy, but nothing of colour. 
As a result, he has usually eschewed colour, satisfying himself on the 
grounds of simplicity and architectural chastity, as though an architec- 
ture which was colourful must necessarily be frivolous. In the rarer 
attempts when he used colour, he either followed a theoretical and 
archeological method, which led him nowhere, or, through the inexperi- 
enced use of his materials, arrived at dissonances varying from the com- 
bination of a few sooty monotones to a nerve-shattering cacophony of 
clashing full intensities. ‘The history of American architecture is dotted 
with disasters in polychromatic design. Happily, this difficulty is being 
recognised and met. The great monuments of colour in the past, like 
Raphael’s loggia or Pintoricchio’s decorations for the Borgia Apartments, 
are being studied as such monuments should be studied—not for imita- 
tion, but as successful solutions of a problem—and a few monuments of 
American architecture have just appeared which can compare, in the mat- 
ter of successful colour, with anything that has been done in the past. 

For the layman, the most needful advice in zsthetic judgment is to 
urge alertness and common sense. In spite of the warring philosophies 
of the past, there is such a thing as sense of beauty, and most people 
have it. A few may be born without it, as a few are born deaf or blind, 
but the vast majority of people can recognise beauty and enjoy it in some 
form. Almost any one can enjoy the beauty of landscape, whether of 
the hills, the plain, or the shore. The moment this sense of beauty be- 


14 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


gins to be sophisticated, however, it becomes confused with literary and 
philosophic ideas. These are useful but dangerous, especially as, in the 
case of the layman, they are applied with lack of true understanding. In 
other words, we use the ideas of others as an easier method than analys- 
ing and applying our own. As a result, the sense of beauty becomes 
partly contaminated, partly atrophied. Like every other faculty, the 
sense of beauty needs exercise and the more healthy exercise it gets, the 
stronger it becomes. 

The duty—and the pleasure—of the layman is simple. He should 
constantly observe and constantly discriminate. He need not do this in 
humility, for the architect is producing beauty not for himself and a se- 
lect few but for all. He should, however, remember his limitations and, 
to return to our physical analogy, not attempt a too massive judgment 
with a too little exercised critical faculty. Above all, he should judge 
and discriminate with charity. Most of us, lay and expert, are seduced 
by the ease and trenchancy with which we can formulate an unfavour- 
able judgment. It is a form of mental cheap smartness which few of us 
escape. The opprobrious catchwords of criticism are quick-caught and far- 
flung. The witty sneer brings a ready laugh, when thoughtful approval 
will only start an argument. “Critic” comes from xpiticoo and means ca- 
pable, or apt for judgment. It means one who should discriminate, not 
necessarily condemn, yet too often it is.taken in the former sense. How 
often do we say that a man is “critical,” when we really mean that he is 
disagreeable! Intelligent appreciation is far more difficult than condem- 
nation, and it is correspondingly more worth while. It need not inter- 
fere with a just discrimination, and it is especially worth while in America 
to-day, where there is as much great architecture to appreciate, to analyse, 
to understand, and to enjoy, as in any period of the development of the art. 

Although our subject is the architecture of to-day, no possible com- 
prehension of it could be obtained without reference to the architecture 
of the past. Happily, however radical the modern may intend to be, his 
innovations have their roots in the past and cannot be explained without 
reference to it. Sometimes these roots go down only a short way, some- 
times they tap the centuries, but always they are there. A brief sketch, 
therefore, of the development of American architecture, with especial 
reference to that side of it which affects modern design, is the necessary 


eer eee ey 


THE DEVELOPMENT OF AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE 15 


prelude to any discussion of the types of buildings, or the tendencies of 
architecture to-day. 

The traditions of American architecture date back to the earliest Co- 
lonial period. Colonial architecture varied widely, however, period by 
period, and was influential more in its later phases than its earlier. Its 
influence on modern architecture is felt tremendously in domestic design 
and only occasionally in monumental architecture. American Colonial can 
be divided into two main classes corresponding roughly to the seven- 
teenth and the eighteenth century work. The former can be called me- 
dizval; the latter, Renaissance design. To the general public, the state- 
ment that there was any native American “medieval” architecture will 
come as something of a shock; nevertheless, the distinction is a fair one. 
It is, moreover, a useful one to understand in connection with our critique 
of modern work. Medizval architecture is picturesque. Renaissance 
architecture is formal. The reason for this is that in medieval architec- 
_ ture the primary, and one might say the sole, interest is in structure. The 
medizval builder, except in monumental works, was concerned only with 
the most direct solution of the practical needs of the occupant. He used 
no vocabulary of ornament derived from the classical past or other his- 
toric source, but strove to construct with an eye fixed on the exigencies of 
material, weather, site, and other practical considerations. The beauty he 
attained, often most satisfactorily, came through the structure, its frank 
revelation, and the harmonious forms which it frequently imposed. The 
expression of his building was thus frank, naive, and picturesque. 

This is particularly true of the wooden framed buildings which the 
Colonial settlers first erected. They were not only esthetically but actually 
historically medizval, and this despite the late date at which they were 
erected. We are accustomed to think of the Middle Ages as coming to 
an end in Italy about 1400; in northern Europe, about 1500. Because 
in England Inigo Jones, in the latter part of the sixteenth century, and 
Sir Christopher Wren, in the latter part of the seventeenth, set the style 
for neo-classicism by such great designs’as Whitehall and St. Paul’s, we 
are apt to think of all English architecture as suddenly having undergone 
a complete transformation. Nothing could be farther from the truth. 
For a long time, the new style was confined to the buildings of polite so- 
ciety, of the wealthy and the sophisticated. The peasants and the lesser 


16 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


burghers continued to build in full accord with the ancient medizval tra- / 
dition. The great bulk of the seventeenth-century settlers in America | 
came from these sturdy, but artistically reactionary, lower classes. They 

gave their buildings in this country a new expression, perforce, because 

they used different materials. Stone was expensive and hard to work, 
brick kilns were scarce and inadequate. Wood was plentiful, cheap, and 
easy to use, so most of the architecture was in that material. In artistic 
expression, however, it maintained strictly the medieval point of view. 
The average American seventeenth-century dwelling was a wooden ver- 
sion of the English yeoman’s cottage, a purely medizxval type. 

Nothing is easier than to illustrate this. Take, for example, such a 
building as the Fairbanks house at Dedham, Mass. (Fig. 1). It dates 
traditionally from 1636, and cannot be more than a decade later. It is 
a wooden structure, solidly framed in imported oak. Its proportions are 
compact, its plan of the simplest, its chimney centrally placed and mas- 
sive, its windows filled with small panes of leaded glass in casements. It 
lacks the slightest display of polite ornament or formality. To some it 
is mere building, not architecture, yet it has undeniable picturesqueness 
and real charm. Moreover, its type has had a very real influence on much 
modern domestic design. It is, however, a building medizval not only in 
expression, but in fact. 

Examples of the type could be multiplied almost at will. As one 
other, we might glance at the old “Scotch House” or “Boardman House” 
at Saugus, Mass., authentically dated 1651 (Fig. 2). It has the central 
chimney, the characteristic medizval overhang of the second story, the 
simple two-room plan, with the hall in the centre, which has come down 
direct from the Middle Ages in Europe. It is only one more of the hun- 
dreds of similar monuments, dating from the seventeenth century, which 
exist all along the Atlantic coast wherever the early settlers penetrated. 

In ecclesiastical architecture, the effect was the same. Such a build- 
ing as the “Old Ship” church, at Hingham, Mass., built in 1681, is purely 
medieval. It is literally a “meeting-house,” fulfilling perfectly the needs 
of its simple congregation and avoiding any suggestion of the frivolity 
and pretense which its congregation would have associated with a classical, 
or in any way a formal style. 

Contrast with these such a typical building of the eighteenth century 


Photograph by the Halliday Historic Photograph Co. 


banks House. 


Ir 


,» Mass. Fa 


DEDHAM 


Fic. 1. 


ic Photograph Co. 


1stor 


day H 


1 


Pioiorragh by ake H all 


Scotch-Boardman House. 


17 


, Mass. 


S 


SauGu 


2 


Fic. 


18 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


as. Mount Airy, Richmond County, Va., built in 1758 (Fig. 3). Here, 
the expression is completely formal and sophisticated. Ultimately, the 
design is based upon the work of the Italian Renaissance, and notably that 
of Palladio. The rustication; the angles reinforced with quoins; above — 
all, the exact symmetry of plan and the esthetic expression got by simple — 
proportion, and the easily caught relation of space to space and measure- — 
ment to measurement—all this represents the movement inaugurated by — 
the Italian Renaissance. American architecture has become sophisticated, 
polite; the whole point of view of the designer has changed.. The “Geor- 
gian Colonial” has arrived, the style which exerts the profoundest influ- 
ence of any upon American domestic architecture of to-day. | 

The immediate source of inspiration of such buildings as Mount Airy 
is not far to seek, and brings us to another point of interest in Colonial 
architecture, as it is of interest to-day: the use of published documents. 
Such documents are commonly used and often abused. In the eighteenth 
century, there were few, if any, real architects in America. The wealthy 
client, now having arrived at a dignified position in Colonial society, em- 
ployed a builder of skill, taste, and a familiarity with the published works 
—actual or hypothetical—of fashionable architects abroad and especially 
in England. The influence of such books on American architecture can- 
not be overestimated. Some were elaborate folios, like that of James 
Gibbs, published in 1728 and widely used for monumental works in this 
country. Others, more modest. and therefore even more widely used, 
were such publications as that of Robert Morris (from 1728), Abraham 
Swan (from 1745), William Pain (from 1758), and many others. Some 
are amusingly naive, though none the less influential, like the New Sys- 
tem of Architecture by Asher Benjamin, who describes himself as “archi- 
tect and carpenter,” and Daniel Raynerd, an “architect and stucco worker.” 
This was published in Boston as late as 1806. 

If we compare Mount Airy with Plate 63 (Fig. 4) in Gibbs’? monu- 
mental Book of Architecture, Designs, and Ornaments, we see very 
clearly where the American got his ideas. The main mass in elevation 
is the same, with central block in two stories, connecting passages, and 
symmetrical wings in the form of pavilions and outhouses. Similarly, 
the plan (Fig. 5), with its U-shaped passage leading to the pavilions, is 
taken direct from \Gibbs’ book. In his elevation, to be sure, the designer 


Fic. 5. Movunr Airy: Plan. 


“6 cr oe 7* ro of be 7 te ft 


Plan of Country House in Fig. 4. 


From James Gibbs, ‘A Book of Architecture.” 


Sy Baas 


Fic. 4. Scheme for a Countiy House by James Gibbs. 
19 


20 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


has not followed the publication so closely, but its main elements were 
none the less got from the book. Plate 55 of the same publication, for 
example, gave him his ideas for the triple-arched and heavily rusticated 
entrance vestibule. When to-day we admire the designs of the charming 
Colonial work and, in the same breath, chide the modern architect for 
slavish copyism, we should bear in mind the directness of the debt of Co- 
lonial to published European work. The modern is scarcely ever as direct 
a “cribber” as the Colonial. 

Indeed, as one turns over the pages of Gibbs, one feels almost as 
though one were running through a treatise on Colonial architecture. Plate 
3, his front elevation of St. Martins in the Fields in London, shows us 
one of the ideals of the Colonial designer. The same may be said of 
Plate 21, St. Mary-le-Strand, which was the prototype of so many Co- 
lonial and, less directly, so many modern churches. Plate 30 (Fig. 6) 
gives us a study of three church spires as they might appear, crowning 
Colonial churches anywhere from Maine to South Carolina, or reflected 
in a hundred attractive monuments of the Colonial movement to-day. 

For details of construction or ornament the American would consult 
a book like William Pain’s Practical House Carpenter.* Plate 39 (Fig. 
7), for example, gives us a charming Ionic Colonial doorway that was 
copied verbatim in a number of buildings, and can be used to-day as a 
source of inspiration, as well as information. For simpler houses and 
churches, where the polite and formal design was required by the taste 
of the time, yet where a modest purse made economy a necessity, there 
were many books with illustrations that gave ideas and were often di- 
rectly imitated. We reproduce one, Plate 36 (Fig. 8), from Benjamin 
and Raynerd’s New System of Architecture, which will illustrate the fact. 
Any one familiar with Colonial architecture or its charming modern off- 
spring will find this dwelling comfortably familiar. If architects were 
few, books were plenty, and they made our Georgian Colonial possible. 

By the end of the eighteenth century, a change came over American 
architecture and a new style appeared which it is of the utmost impor- 
tance to recognise if we are to understand the inspiration for much of the 
best of our modern work. The new style we can call “Early Republi- 
can,” as opposed to the “Georgian Colonial” of the earlier eighteenth 


* Boston, 1796. 


From James Gibbs, “4A Book of Apebitecturé?! 


Fic. 6. Elevation of Georgian Steeples by 
James Gibbs. 


A Semspoenccn Dok 


= ————————— EY * = 


From William Pain, “ Practical House Carpenter.” aa 


Fic. 7. Design for a Doorway. 


Pate “ut. 


* 


is : Ss Sst er cas 
From Asher Benjamin, “American Builder's Companion.” 


Fic. 8. Elevation and Plan for a Country House. 


21 


22 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


century. Because, like the Colonial, this was a classical architecture, it is . 
constantly confused with Colonial; yet it is very different from it in that 
it 1s first, far more strictly classical, and second, far more complicated and 
finished in plan. It is the architecture of what js generally called the 
“classical revival,” but few people realise that the classical revival began 
earlier in the United States than it did abroad. For the first time, with 
this movement, America was artistically in the van. This came largely 
through the efforts of a dilettante of great genius, Thomas Jefferson, who 
designed the Virginia State Capitol in 1785, twenty-two years before Vi- 
gnon’s Madeleine in Paris, the first great adaptation of the temple to mod- 
ern use abroad. The whole style was actuated by the fiercest desire to 
conform as closely as possible to classic models. It was the proud and 
perhaps youthfully pompous attempt of the first great modern republic 
to identify itself with-the great republics of classical antiquity. 

Had the early Republican style been merely neo-classic, it would not 
have been so admirable, nor so widely influential. As always in any great 
period, the style was no mere repeat of what had gone before, but pro- 
duced new effects of harmony in proportion and, above all, more inter- 
esting and more sensible arrangements of plan. If the first great source 
of inspiration was classical, the second was contemporary French. Jef- 
ferson was not only a great classicist but a great francophile. If we ex- 
amine his first design for his home, “Monticello,” at Charlottesville, begun 
in 1796, but several times remodelled by its owner, we observe only the 
strictest and severest classicism in the use of the Doric order. If we look 
at the elevation as it now exists (Fig. 9), however, we are struck not only 
by classicism but by beauty of proportion, by an elaboration which reveals 
a carefully studied plan (Fig. 10). For an even earlier example, we might 
turn to the Hamilton House, or “Woodlands,” in Philadelphia (Fig. 12), 
built about 1788. The plans, both of first and second story, are abso- 
lutely typical of the early Republican style. The staircase is removed to 
one side. One enters a dignified vestibule, and behind it is a great salon. 
Right and left are the oval rooms so characteristic of the style. Commu- 
nications are carefully studied, so that one can ascend to the second story 
without entering the salon, and, once there, can enter each separate room 
without passing through another. Privacy and comfort have both been 
studied. The ideas which inspired this planning came from the archi- 


© Detroit Photographic Co. 
Fic. 9. CHARLOTTESVILLE, VA. Monticello. Thomas Fefferson, Architect. 


ated = PMoysue — 
\ 
— 
ar RS : s 
| | vSan moon Din ina x 
ri I 
—= eee ne ee ot 
PA SIOAQGh XQ | j 
{ | hy 
— ‘ i. | i 4 
a rl PASSaAan Ce eeac Ws I » a re 2 : 
< Tt < Eee oote ! | 4 
‘ a EQUUS Falllitliiss : 
. L 
di 
| Siwrring 
ROOM 
‘ MADISON SD 
- ad 1 BPav Reoon BD Reon 
meow 
Sei ead Rar, ares 


Peomecr; 


ne ee — = 


Scare fom 


From Lambeth and Manning, “Thomas Jefferson as an Architect and Designer of Landscapes.” 


Fic. 10. CHARLOTTESVILLE, VA. Monticello. Thomas Feferson, Architect. 


23 


PASS AGe 


24 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


tecture of the period of Louis XV in France. They reflect, on a more 
modest scale, the ideas of Aubert, Boffrand, and Héré de Corny. Out- 
side, the appearance is harmonious and dignified (Fig. 11). It is no won- 
der that this style has inspired on the whole the finest and best liked of 
our modern domestic work. It continued in undiminished popularity until 
about 1835, when it began to weaken under the onslaught of Romanticism. 
Meanwhile, it produced real architects, imported and native, of great re- 
nown, and to it belongs.the credit of beginning the first really monumen- 
tal architecture of America. 

Before we trace this movement farther, however, we must pause over 
certain other conditions which influenced the Colonial and early Repub- 
lican architecture of America and through these, as well as directly, much 
of our modern work. The first of these is racial. American architecture 
varied according to the tastes of the several nationalities which settled in 
different regions, and the effect of these variations shows unmistakably in 
our modern styles. The most prominent racial influence was, of course, 
the English. This existed especially in New England and in Virginia 
and the Carolinas. On the other hand, the Dutch settlers of New York 
and the Hudson erected a totally different style of architecture no less 
properly Colonial than that of New England or the South. The Dyck- 
man House (Fig. 13) in New York, for example, with its high basement, 
its covered veranda,* its gambrel roof curved to swing over the porch, rep- 
resents another definite American style; Dutch-inspired and, as we shall 
see, most happily influential in a considerable amount of modern work. 
In Pennsylvania, still other influences entered with the coming of the 
Germans, the Swedes, and the Moravians. Cliveden, the old Chew House 
at Germantown, Pa. (Fig. 14), built after 1763, with its narrow central 
pavilion, its thin dormers, its urns at roof angles and gable peak, shows 
unmistakably its German derivation. This “Pennsylvania Dutch” architec- 
ture has influenced some modern work and, better yet, by its charming use 
of the beautiful local building stone, has inspired the modern Philadel- 


* The wide, low veranda that is such a common feature in modern country architec- 
ture was rare even at the end of the eighteenth century. Witness the amusing corre- 
spondence between the painter, John Copley, and his builder anent the addition of a 
“peazer” to his house in Boston. (Fiske Kimball, Dozmestic Architecture of the American 
Colonies, New York, 1922, p. 98.) 


© Detroit Photographic Co. 


Fic. 11. PHILapELputa, Pa. 


Woodlands. 


a 


@. 


So CS een a a a a Nem anne 


From measured drawings by Ogden Codman. 


Fic. 12. Puitapetputa, Pa. Woodlands. 


25 


26 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


phian architects to use this material and attain effects of beauty surpassing 
even those of the Colonial period. | 

These are all familiar types to the Easterner, but there are many other 
Colonial monuments which have exercised an enormous influence upon 
modern architecture. I refer to the buildings of the Latin invaders, 
French, and especially Spanish, that are just as properly “Colonial” as 
any “Anglo-American work in Massachusetts or Virginia. Such a building 
is the Fort of San Marco, at St. Augustine, Fla., completed in 1756, and 
a purely Spanish design. Another famous example would be the “Cabildo,” 
at New Orleans, built in 1795 (Fig. 15). Indeed, the whole city of New 
Orleans is full of designs, and especially ironwork, derived from Spanish 
and French sources, that is not only immensely interesting but perfectly 
suited to influence most happily modern design in these districts. Lastly 
there is the simple, well-adapted Spanish work of the colonists of Texas, 
Arizona, New Mexico, and California, which has been used as an almost 
inexhaustible mine to furnish ideas for modern designers in these districts. 
The type is, of course, admirably suited to the climate and the materials 
most apt. To mention one of the earliest examples, let us note the old 
Governor’s Palace at Santa Fé, built soon after 1609 (Fig. 16), in the 
administration of Don Pedro de Peralta, Governor and Captain-General 
of the Kingdom and Provinces of New Mexico. Simple it is to bareness, 
yet as effective in its block-like plain surfaces, slashed with the shadows of 
projecting beams, as any Colonial monument in America. No wonder it 
has caught the eye and inspired the work of many a modern designer. In 
these districts, too, as along the Atlantic seaboard, instances could be mul- 
tipled. Nearly all of us are familiar, for example, with the appearance © 
of the San Diego Missions, San Carlos Mission (1793-97), San Juan Ca- 
pistrano (begun 1497), the Santa Barbara Missjon (1815-20), and oth- 
ers. hese, in spite of the late date of many, are strictly and properly 
speaking “Colonial.” As such, they have played a vivid part in colouring 
the modern architecture of their districts. 

Aside from racial inheritance, geographical position exercised a pow- 
erful influence upon Colonial design, as it does the design of to-day. Even 
when two buildings are derived from the same racial source, as in Massa- 
chusetts and Virginia, they differ on account of climatic conditions. The 
Northern building is compactly composed, the Southern, loosely. In the 


Courtesy of the Essex Institute, Salem. 


Fic. 13. New York, N. Y. Dyckman House. 


© Detroit Photographic Co. 


Fic. 14. Germantown, Pa. Cliveden, or Chew Mansion. 


27 


Courtesy of the Museum 


J 


Fic. 15. New Orteans, La. The Cabildo. 


of New Movie 
Fic. 16. Santa Fé, N. M. 
28 


Old Governor’s Palace. 


THE DEVELOPMENT OF AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE 29 


North, the chimneys tend to run up through the mass of the building, 
radiating heat within. The kitchen is planned as part of the main bulk. 
This is true even of the more elaborate and aristocratic of the Northern 
houses like Vassall House, Cambridge, Mass., built in 1759 (Fig. 17), a 
pure Georgian construction, and it was invariably true of the simpler, sev- 
enteenth-century type. In the South, where warmth is more apt to be an 
intruder than a friend, the architectural composition, so to speak, throws 
open its coat. Buildings spread out, chimneys are usually built running 
up the exterior of the building, rather than within its mass. The compo- 
sition includes outhouses, often connected with the main building by a por- 
ticoed passage, and in one of these is placed the kitchen quarters. Such a 
building as ““Westover,” Virginia (Fig. 18) (1726), is derived from ex- 
actly the same racial sources as Vassall House, yet gives one the impres- 
sion of an entirely different composition, suggested, if not actually imposed, 
by climatic conditions. Similarly, the hot climates of the South and South- 
west caused men to cling to the sensible Spanish forms, thick-walled, one- 
storied, with open patios, long after the Spanish, as a race, had been super- 
seded in these districts. The heterogeneous geography of so enormous a 
country as the United States is bound to produce a variegated architecture 
in modern, as in Colonial, times, and this over and above the inevitable 
influence of early architecture on later. The fact we should cheerfully 
welcome, and not deplore, though it probably destroys the possibility of 
that “national American style” which so many have hoped might appear 
in this country. We might conceivably develop a national style in some 
one type of building, like the commercial office-building; we shall never 
develop, one trusts, a unified national style for all types. We can recog- 
nise and welcome the certainty that the dweller in northern Vermont will 
never be housed in a building resembling the domicile of an inhabitant of 
southern Texas. 

It was the early Republican style, however, which actually brought to 
American architecture what we can call a modern point of view. The archi- 
tect, in the modern sense, first appears in that period. At first, he was 
apt to be a foreigner, like Pierre Charles L’Enfant, that Frenchman with a 
genius for planning which seems inherent in French taste, who, in 1791, 
made the plan for the city of Washington (Fig. 19) and assured its being 
the most orderly and beautiful of American cities. When we stand to- 


see 


otogra ograph Co. 


Photograph by the Halliday Historic Phot 


Fic. 17. Camsripnce, Mass. Vassall House. 


© Detroit Photographic Co. 


Fic. 18. Westover, on the James River, Virginia. 


30 


THE DEVELOPMENT OF AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE 31 


day, admiring the vista from the Capitol to the Washington Monument 
and the Lincoln Memorial, when we discuss the pros and cons of John 
Russell Pope’s Memorial to Roosevelt, we should realise that these effects 
were made possible by L’Enfant. 

Other foreigners showed Americans the way, and made them accus- 
tomed to a monumental handling of architecture. Stephen Hallet came 
from France, to work upon the Capitol at Washington. James Hoban 
came from Ireland, to give us the White House. Thornton, Latrobe, and 
others paved the way until such men as Robert Mills (1781-1855), de- 
signer of the Washington monuments in Washington and Baltimore; Sam- 
uel McIntire, of Salem, Mass., gifted craftsman and pioneer in domestic 
work; John McComb, who, with Mengin, designed the Government House 
in New York; and, above all, Charles Bulfinch (1763-1844), at last proved 
that American architects were able to stand on their own feet. Monuments 
like the Government House (or City Hall), New York (Fig. 20), showed 
the combination of refinement, sense of proportion, and skill in planning 
that marked the early Republican style. Meanwhile, the design and con- 
struction of the Capitol at Washington taught Americans to look at archi- 
tecture in a truly monumental way, while Latrobe’s cathedral in Baltimore 
(1805-21) gave to the country a building which revealed to Americans a 
design comparable to, and inspired by, the Pantheon in Paris. These works 
awakened a conscious pride in American architecture. 

Although some of the finest elements of the style of the classical re- 
vival were French, the American work was by no means purely French in 
character, and American architects did not continue to follow unswerv- 
ingly the French tradition. A striking characteristic of American architec- 
ture, revealed in the Colonial style and emphasised in the early Republi- 
can, was refinement. . Thanks to the persistent impress of the latter upon 
later design, refinement became a sine gua non of American architecture. 
Every thoughtful student of modern American work has been struck by 
the way most of the greatest modern American architects have gone to 
Paris for training and yet, on their return,-primed with the sense of plan- 
ning, construction, and unity of the French genius, have persistently re- 
jected the florid and exuberant phase of modern French design. Trained 
to do a Grand Palais or a Musée Galliera, they have returned to do work 
like the Boston Public Library or the Temple of the Scottish Rite at Wash- 


M 
‘ 
ue 
J 
a 
Pe | 
“6l : 
A 


32 


THE DEVELOPMENT OF AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE a 


ington. The sense of refinement, if it be not permitted to stiffen into a 
too rigid conservatism, is one of the most precious heritages of American 
architecture. In any case, whether we welcome it or not, it must be rec- 
ognised and reckoned with in any review of the tendencies of our archi- 
tecture to-day. 

Strong as was the current of classicism in the early nineteenth century, 
it was interrupted during the fourth decade by a new movement, also to 
be reckoned with in its influence on modern design. Romanticism, appear- 
ing in England and France in the latter part of the eighteenth century, in- 
vaded America early in the nineteenth. Even Latrobe, the classicist, was 
won over to it, and Maximilian Godefroi designed a Gothic chapel for a 
girls’ seminary in Baltimore as early as 1807. Romanticism did not emerge 
as a serious candidate for architectural domination, however, until the late 
thirties. By the time Upjohn, an Englishman, had finished Trinity Church 
in New York (Fig. 21) (1839-46), the battle of the styles was well joined 
and classicism was beginning to look rather old-fashioned. Thus, a tradi- 
tion of Gothic design, especially for churches, was started and has re- 
mained an important tendency in American architecture ever since. 

Probably the best-known exponent of Romanticism in this country was 
James Renwick, whose design for Grace Church in New York (1843-46) 
was followed by his commission for St. Patrick’s Cathedral in that city 
(Fig. 22) (1850-79), the outstanding monument of Romanticism in this 
country. Ihe movement took firmest root in England, and, on account of 
the close affiliations between America and the mother country, was enthu- 
siastically welcomed here. America followed all the English phases, and 
Van Brunt’s Memorial Hall, at Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass., is 
an attempt, by no means entirely happy, to erect in America the polychro- 
matic Gothic that had become popular in England with the work of Street 
and Waterhouse. 

In America, as in England, however, the early Gothic designers caught 
the superficial form but not the spirit of Gothic design. Our artists knew 
too little of the real originals which they imitated rather than adapted. 
They were neither correctly archeological, nor properly inspired to origi- 
nality. The task for the modern architect was to study medieval work 
more understandingly, design with more correctness, and, at the same time, 
achieve a sense of spontaneity in his work. How admirably this has been 
done can be illustrated in a host of modern works. 


Photograph ie Wurts Bcikets, 
Fic. 20. New Yorx,N. Y. City Hall. Foseph Mengin and John McComb, Architects. 


© Detroit Photographic Co. © Detroit Photographic Co. 


Fic. 21. New York, N. Y. Trinity Church. Fic. 22. New York, N. Y. St. Patrick’s 
Richard Upjohn, Architect. Cathedral. Fames Renwick, Architect. 


34 


THE DEVELOPMENT OF AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE a5 


Despite the lifelessness of the mid-nineteenth-century Gothic, in a pe- 
riod when American architecture sank to its lowest ebb, the romantic point 
of view persisted. Partly, as we have seen, this was on account of the re- 
lations between England and the United States. Still more, it was caused 
by a definite taste of the people. Paradoxical as it may seem, a new coun- 
try is apt to be conservative. Invariably, too, such a country sets a greater 
value on the past which it has not, than does a country of Jong history, 
affably accustomed to the monuments of its architectural perspective and 
even apt to be impatient of their domination. Energetic, busy, preoccu- 
pied in his affairs with the most up-to-date things, the American turns for 
relaxation to the past. Cheated of the romance of history, he demands 
its artificial simulacrum, much as the kings of Bavaria built “ruins” in their 
grounds to stimulate the classic imagination during the period when clas- 
sicism was the be-all and the end-all of good taste. Uncontrolled, this 
retrospective attitude has produced much that is bad in American architec- 
ture. It is responsible, however, for the feeling, so prevalent among the 
vast majority of Americans, that it is impossible to worship God in any- 
thing but a Gothic building, or at least a medieval one. It is to the credit 
of the best modern designers in a medizval style, whose work almost en- 
tirely postdates 1900, that they have yielded to this demand and yet pro- 
duced exquisite works of art quite comparable to the medixval masterpieces 
that inspired them. 

A phase, or rather an offshoot, of Romanticism produced another tre- 
mendously influential movement in American architecture: the Roman- 
esque revival of H. H. Richardson. Born in Louisiana, educated at Har- 
vard, like so many great American architects Richardson went to France 
for his technical training. No man ever displayed less, however, of the 
academic point of view of the Beaux-Arts. Early caught by Romanticism, 
Richardson began by doing Gothic work which to us to-day seems little 
inspired. His genius was too original, however, to continue in this. By 
an easy extension of ideas, he began to study the possibilities of Roman- 
esque. Its greater quiet, its comparative horizontality, above all, its rugged 
strength, appealed to him. Without ever making a slavish copy, he began 
to work in the Romanesque style. In so doing, he nearly revolutionised 
American architecture. European writers of a generation ago assume Rich- 


36 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY | 


ardson to have been the one outstanding original genius of American archi- 
tecture. 3 

He was in truth an innovator and a leader. His ideas were his own, 
and were not reflections, in this country, of current European tendencies. 
His architecture, above all, had power. In such a group as the Allegheny 
County Court House and Gaol at Pittsburgh (1854), he taught Ameri- 
cans a most forceful lesson in the use and expression of materials. His 
massive compositions in quarry-faced stone were soon discussed and imi- 
tated by a host of lesser architects. His best composed, most monumental, 
and most famous work was Trinity Church, Boston (Fig. 23) (1872-77). 
As we look at such a building to-day it seems very archzological. Its his- 
toric prototypes and its affinities with definite Spanish and Provencal build- 
ings are quickly recognised by any student of architecture. What we should 
remember, however, is that first, the use of these prototypes was original 
in Richardson’s day—and second—and far more important—his works 
were adaptations rather than imitations. His material, for example, was 
new and characteristically American. He obtained the effects of the old 
work that inspired him in new ways. In spite of its archeological side, his 
work was a step towards architectural freedom. It was stamped with a 
mastery that won him recognition in two continents and, at the same time, 
opened the road to experiments and new expressions in American archi- 
tecture. 

Unfortunately, the successors of Richardson were, on the whole, un- 
worthy. None could wield Ulysses’ bow, and the immediate result of his 
movement was the sudden propagation of a host of uninspired Romanesque 
post-offices, town halls, and gaols throughout the breadth of the United 
States. These retained the harshness of the master’s design with none of 
its real monumentality and sense of composition. The constructive effect 
of the Richardsonian movement was in the letting down of the bars, the 
proving that interesting work other than Gothic could be done, and the 
paving of the way for eclecticism in architectural inspiration, which, whether 
we like it or no, is one of the most influential tendencies in American archi- 
tecture to-day. 

The most famous exponent of nineteenth-century eclecticism was Rich- 
ard Morris Hunt, a New Englander, born at Brattleboro, Vt., in 1828, 
receiving his elementary education in Boston and then going to Europe for 


Fic. 23. Boston, Mass. Trinity Church, Before Completion of Porch. Henry H. Richardson, Architect. 


From the “‘ Architectural Record.” 


Fic. 24. AsHevitteE, N.C. Biltmore House. Richard Morris Hunt, Architect. 


37 


38 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


his technical training. He studied first in Geneva, then under Lefuel in 
Paris,* with whom he stayed from 1845 to 1855. He then returned to 
this country, where he practised his art until his death in 1895. By the 
end of his career he was America’s most famous architect and one of the 
most powerful in influencing our modern style. He was a whole-hearted 
exponent of eclecticism, fired by enthusiasm for the masterpieces of Euro- 
pean architecture oftentimes to a stultifying archeological imitation. Such 
a building as Biltmore House (Fig. 24), with its copy of the famous stair- 
case at Blois, would be characterised in a modern school merely as an unsuc- 
cessful historic problem. Other works, like the Tribune Building in New 
York (Fig. 25), show a struggling for expression, by no means happy, in a 
new problem where archeology fails as a guide. This was one of the first 
“elevator buildings,” and, if it looks ugly and old-fashioned, we should 
remember the fifty years of experiment before the constructive solutions _ 
of to-day were reached. It was when he turned to classicism, either en- 
livened by the exuberance of the Beaux-Arts, or tempered by the restraint 
of the neo-Grec, that Hunt appears as a modern architect and a gifted 
genius. Perhaps the most complete and satisfactory work of this later 
phase was the Administration Building at the Chicago World’s Fair (Fig. 
26). Here, with rich ornament and imagination, he displayed a sense of 
composition, monumentality, and proportion that made his work one of the 
most brilliant in that brilliant gathering of the masters in 1893. Hunt 
also did much monumental domestic work, especially at Newport, and set 
the fashion for the elaborate country mansion, inspired by the palatial 
dwellings of the nobility abroad, but in no sense copying them. In such 
a building as the J. R. Busk residence, at Newport, R. I. (Fig. 27), for 
example, the artist attacked the problem of a building which, using only 
a modified architectural vocabulary drawn from the past, should conform 
in its surface and mass to the bold and rugged landscape in which it was 
set. The solution was supremely successful, and again offered suggestions 
eagerly caught up by successors in the field. In such works as these one 
feels that the artist has shaken off the copyism of his earlier work, has 
struck out boldly in new lines, and become literally a modern architect. 
-Modern American architecture, in a true sense, was beginning to ap- 


* See Architectural Record, October-December, 1895, ‘“[The Works of the late Rich- 
ard Morris Hunt.” | 


MSS : 
ee a ee 


aa 


ES 
= 
Se 
ee: 
oe 
oe 
“sg 
SE 
ae 
oe 


Fic. 25. New York, N.Y. Tribune Building. Fic. 26. Cutcaco, I1z. World’s Columbian 
Richard M. Hunt, Architect. Exposition: Administration Building. 
Richard M. Hunt, Architect. 


Richard M. Hunt, Architect. 


Busk Residence. 
39 


Fic. 27. Newport, R. J. 


40 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


pear. One of the most powerful, progressive influences for its develop- 
ment came from world’s fairs and expositions, which gave architects an 
opportunity to practise the design not only of a single building but of com- 
plicated layouts, and revealed to vast numbers of the public the last word 
in modern building. To Philadelphia belongs the glory of holding the 
first important one of these, the Centennial Exposition of 1876.* Here 
men saw, for the first time and on a large scale, many American buildings 
erected for a special purpose and planned with some reference one to an- 
other. On the other hand, the amazing progress of American architec- 
ture can be judged by comparing these buildings with those of recent expo- 
sitions. Only fifty years have passed since that exposition. Plenty of 
people are alive who can remember its opening, yet when we look at repro- 
ductions of its architecture they seem antediluvian. Some, like the vast 
Machinery Hall (Fig. 28), or the Main Exhibition Building, had almost 
no pretence and, in a purely utilitarian way, by scale and mass, attained a 
not unimpressive effect. Others, like the Agricultural Building (Fig. 29), 
illegitimate children of Romanticism and conceived in the most inane form 
of Victorian Gothic, were low-water marks in American architecture. Still 
others, like the Horticultural Hall, and especially the Art Gallery (Hig. 
30), though containing many faults, were full of promise. The latter, 
with its monumentality, proportion, and sense of scale, foreshadowed the 
great, progressive work which was to appear seventeen years later at 
Chicago. : | 

The smaller buildings of the exhibition are of an interest now merely 
as history, or as horrible examples. As one specimen, we may look at the 
Michigan State Building (Fig. 31), in its day the last word in polite de- 
sign. A more amusing conglomerate of Gothic jig-saw ornament and Swiss 
chalet mock-picturesqueness it would be hard to discover, yet it is encour- 
aging to remember that this was done only fifty years ago. Similarly, the 
interiors make one shudder and be thankful. The view of the interior of 
the main building, with the entrance to the Spanish, Egyptian, and Danish 
courts, could find its counterpart to-day only in the main tent of a preten- 
tious travelling circus. Nevertheless, though we may smile at the indi- 
vidual buildings, we should not belittle the exposition as a whole. It was 


* McCabe, J. D., I/lustrated History of the Centennial Exhibition, Philadelphia, 1876. 


=. y 
SS 
——— 
=a 
——e 


ern Be 7 

es =] aires 
Fao 1) cere iu.od CRS NCA ES 
mocap 9! ; See 
Sriiirtiy) ies ARS 


Neate 2 


iF i 
2 deh sere eeiaest naar Rime 0 
td x 


Fic, 30. PHiLapetputa, Pa. International Exposition of 1876: Fine Arts Building. 


41 


42 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


the nation’s first ambitious attempt of its kind and made way for a series 
of great constructive works in our history. 

The most momentous of these, and one of the most important events 
in American architectural history, was the World’s Columbian Exposition 
at Chicago in 1893. The first architect to be consulted in this task was 
Daniel H. Burnham,* and he became the real head of the organisation 
which designed the exposition. His title was Chief of Construction, and 
associated with him, as Consulting Architect, was his partner, J. W. Root. 
F. L. Olmsted, who had been consulted at the outset, on the advice of Mr. 
Burnham, was made Consulting Landscape Architect. A. Gottlieb was 
Chief Engineer. Mr. Root, whose ideas about the buildings followed an 
older and semi-Romanesque tradition (Fig. 32), died in 1891, and in his 
place Mr. Burnham appointed Charles B. Atwood. Meanwhile, the orig- 
inal four had conferred with R. M. Hunt, McKim, Mead & White, George 
B. Post, Peabody & Stearns, and Van Brunt & Howe, intrusting to them 
the general scheme and the most important of the buildings. These gen- 
tlemen decided in favour of a Roman Classical style and a uniform cor- 
nice line of 60 feet for the Court of Honour. Other buildings were ap- 
portioned, some to the original five firms, some to others—among them 
Adler & Sullivan, who were given the Transportation Building; Henry 
Ives Cobb, later designer of the University of Chicago, who took Fish- 
eries; and W. L. B. Jenney, of Jenney & Mundie, innovators in steel con- 
struction, who was given the Horticultural Building. Augustus Saint- 
Gaudens was made Consultant in matters of sculpture, doing no pieces him- 
self, but apportioning the commissions among other sculptors best qualified 
for the several tasks. 

The site in Jackson Park comprised 686 acres, of which 188 were to 
be covered with buildings. A site to the north of the city had been pre- 
ferred by Mr. Burnham, but had to be abandoned on account of difficul- 
ties of transportation. To Mr. Olmsted was given the task of converting 
three ridges of sand-bars, separated by boggy intervals, a subsoil subject to 
flooding, and a site imperilled by the rising of the lake level, into an orderly 
scheme of terraces, roads, paths, ponds, and canals, well under control and 
subject to architectural treatment. His was one of the most important 


* C, Moore, Daniel H. Burnham, New York, 1921, vol. I, pp. 31 ff., for a most inter- 
esting account of the inception of the scheme. 


av! 
sete 


Fic. 31. Puiraperpuia, Pa. International Exposition of 1876: 
Michigan State Building. 


From Haseiet Monroe. “ John Wellborn Root.” 


Fig. 32. Cuicaco, Int. World’s Columbian Exposition: H. W. 
Root’s Study for the Central Pavilion of the Main Building. 


43 


44 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


tasks in changing a swamp into a Dream City. William Prettyman was 
first put in charge of the colour scheme, but he resigned and this work was 
taken over by Frank D. Millet. Artistically, the work brought together 
the greatest gathering of giants that the nation has ever seen, and these 
men, coming from many different parts of the country, representing many 
different architectural trends, worked with an enthusiasm, a unity of pur- 
pose, a harmony that was an inspiration to the whole country. The year 
1893 is the best date for the beginning of modern American architecture. 

In a review of this sort there is naturally no time to go into any de- 
tailed discussion of the individual buildings of the Columbian Exposi- 
tion, but some, at least, should be noted in passing. A general view of 
the Court of Honour (Fig. 33), with its classic buildings in gleaming 
white, its spacious lagoon, and its monumental fountains, will give some 
idea of the combined dignity and charm which so impressed the Ameri- 
cans of three decades ago. At the right we see the domed Agriculture 
Building (Fig. 34), designed by McKim, Mead & White. At the left is 
the tremendous building devoted to Manufactures and the Liberal Arts 
(Fig. 35), a work of George B. Post. Nearer views of these structures 
reveal a classicism which to-day seems a little archeological. The debts 
to definite monuments of classical antiquity are perhaps a little too out- 
spoken, but, bearing in mind the chaotic condition of American architec- 
ture so shortly before this period, one can understand the delight with 
which people hailed such dignified and harmonious achievements. 

A glance at the plan (Fig. 36) will show that our view is taken from 
the Administration Building, which we have noted as one of the happiest 
designs of R. M. Hunt. Indeed, the whole plan deserves careful study 
in its admirable combination of formality and picturesqueness. The sym- 
metry of the Court of Honour delights the eye, while the rambling infor- 
mality of the wooded island, with its lagoon, camp, and rose garden, acts 
as a relief from the danger of oppressiveness. Communications, both 
within the plot and giving access to it, are carefully studied, and the genius 
which America is beginning to show in city planning was forecast in the 
Columbian Exposition. 

The building which received the greatest acclaim and the popularity 
of which was most permanent was the Fine Arts Building (Fig. 37), by 
Atwood. Of all the buildings it was the simplest. Using a delicate Tonic 


3 


Courtesy of Olmsied Brothers. 
Fig. 38. Cuicaco, Itt. World’s Columbian Exposition: Court of Honour. 


Phsiosravh by C. D. Arnold. 


Fic. 34. Cuicaco, Itt. World’s Columbian Exposition: Agricultural Building, 
_ McKim, Mead & White, Architects. 


45 


0° SEE eee SDE Rt spec rompeenesnster-eenseaea Mee 


Photograph by C. D. Arnold. 


World’s Columbian Exposition: Manufactures and Liberal Arts Building. 
George B. Post, Architect. 


Fic. 35. Curcaco, ILL. 


“TH 


CHICA! 


addin 


Fic. 36. Cuicaco, Int. World’s Columbian Exposition: Plan. 


46 


> ns 


THE DEVELOPMENT OF AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE 47 


order, in two dimensions, the artist sought by refinement and proportion 
to attain an effect worthy of a building designed to house the Fine Arts. 
That he was inspired by a previous design done in the Beaux-Arts in Paris 
may be a just charge; that he succeeded in his purpose, none will deny. 
The Fine Arts Building still exists, in a dilapidated state. There is a move- 
ment now afoot—destined we trust to succeed—to repair and preserve for 
the nation this important landmark in its architectural history. Less showy 
than some of its admirable sister buildings, it struck the key-note of mod- 
ern American monumental architecture. It showed that the lesson of the 
early Republican style had been well learned. 

Of the many other important and beautiful buildings produced by the 
Columbian Exposition one deserves especial mention: the Transportation 
Building (Fig. 38), by Adler & Sullivan. The tendencies which it rep- 
resented we shall discuss later. It is enough here to note its originality 
and its proof that, though the general classical scheme was imposed in the 
design of the exposition as a whole, important variations from it were not 
only permitted but welcomed. If the Court of Honour was the parent 
of classicism in modern American architecture, the Transportation Build- 
ing was the father of what we can call more technically “modernism.” 
In this work Louis Sullivan had his first opportunity on a large scale to 
embody his ideas in a great monument and place them before the public 
eye. For him, classicism was as dead as romanticism. Any “vocabulary” 
of architecture other than his own he considered stifling. He evolved a 
style from his own philosophy and the study of nature. He thought in 
terms of simple masses, of the play of light and shade, of colour. Avoid- 
ance of precedent became with him a creed of morals or an affectation, 
according to the point of view of the observer. Whether we approve or 
disapprove, all but the most captious will agree that the Transportation 
Building was a great work of art. More than that, it was an ultimatum. 
It was the voice of an energetic and militant Americanism calling upon the 
national art to throw off “the chains and bonds which architecture had laid 
upon herself,” much as Michelangelo had voiced the same cry three and 
a half centuries before. It was a radical design, the embodiment of a radi- 
cal theory of zsthetics, consciously attacking conservative classicism. It 
appealed to the young and to the younger sections of the country. The 
response to it was immediate, though largely confined to the Middle West, 


bee. 


Piticrtask by C D. dineld: 
Fic. 387. Cuicaco, I1z. World’s Columbian Exposition: The Fine Arts Building. 
Charles B. Atwood, Architect. 


Cased a Olmsted Brain 
Fic. 388. Cutcaco, Itt. - World’s Columbian Exposition: Transportation Building. : 
Adler &8 Sullivan, Architects. ‘ 


48 : 


THE DEVELOPMENT OF AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE 49 


and it started a constructive movement which continued without interrup- 
tion and is powerfully felt in American architecture to-day. 

Of the manifold influences of the Columbian Exposition we shall have 
more to say later. It is enough to note here that the precept of Chicago 
started a brilliant series of fairs which showed not only America but Eu- 
rope the energy and creative ability of American architecture. Only five 
years later (1898) two large expositions were staged; one, the “Cotton” 
Exposition at New Orleans, the other the “Trans-Mississippi” Exposition 
at Omaha, Neb. Chicago had led the way and the cities of the West and 
South were eager for emulation. Only New York held aloof, nursing a 
regret, we may imagine, that she had let the opportunity of holding the 
Columbian Exposition slip from her grasp. It was better for American 
architecture, however, that these expositions should be wide-spread geo- 
graphically and in districts where monumental architecture was less con- 
spicuous than in the great metropolis of the East. As in all youthful peri- 
ods and communities, the architecture of the West had been primarily prac- 
tical and beauty too often associated with misapplied fancy ornament than 
with the fundamentals of design. Nothing could have been happier for 
Nebraska than the erection of such a structure as the Government Build- 
ing (Fig. 39) by James Knox Taylor.* Classic in design, reminiscent of 
Atwood’s Fine Arts Building at Chicago, it might be challenged on the 
ground of a lack of originality, but it taught a lesson of monumentality 
and composition where it was sorely needed. Indeed, it was one of the 
propagandists of the classical movement which was inaugurated at Chicago. 

The next great American exposition, the Pan-American, was held at 
Buffalo in 1901.t. Here less was made of the ensemble. There was more 
variety than in previous fairs and the attempt seemed to have been to gain 
picturesqueness, if even at the expense of completely orderly arrangement. 
This was particularly true of the colour scheme. Many of the build- 
ings of the “Rainbow City” were conceived in intense colours, sometimes 
very successful, but sometimes clashing in effect. Some of the individual 
buildings, while avoiding the vulgar, embodied a deliberate exuberance 
which was encouraged by the authorities behind the fair. Such a building 


* Walker, C. H., “The Trans-Mississippi Exposition,” 4rchitectural Review, Boston, 
March, 1898. 

{ See Architectural Review, Boston, July, 1901, p. 83, for good, brief criticism of its 
architecture. / 


James K. Taylor, Architect. 


Fic. 39. Omana, Nes. Trans-Mississippi and International Exposition: Government Building. 


Burrato, N. Y. Pan-American 


Fic. 41. 
Exposition: New York State Building. 
George Cary, Architect, 


Fic. 40. Burrato, N. Y. Pan-American 
Exposition: Electric Tower. 
5° 


F. G. Howard, Architect, 


THE DEVELOPMENT OF AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE 51 


as J. G. Howard’s Tower (Fig. 40) maintained the classic tradition of ex- 
position architecture, but displayed a richness of ornament derived from 
Blondel and Boffrand in the period of transition from the reign of Louis 
XIV to that of Louis XV in France. None the less, of originality there 
was plenty, and the variegated colour, tastefully handled, enhanced the 
charm and freedom of the ornament. Such a building, too, as that for 
the Graphic Arts, Horticulture and Agriculture, by Peabody & Stearns, 
showed the happiest combination of big composition with gaiety of colour 
and detail. At the same time there were severe designs, like George 
Cary’s New York State Building (Fig. 41), quiet, rigid, almost bare in 
their Doric simplicity. There were many buildings in which colour was 
eschewed and these, for greater order, were generally grouped at one end 
of the grounds. Nevertheless, the general effect of the exposition was one 
of variety rather than breadth. It might be regarded as something of a 
reaction against the thoroughgoing homogeneity of the “White City” at 
Chicago. 

Soon after the Pan-American Exposition came one of the most exten- 
sive of all, the Louisiana Purchase Exposition, opened in St. Louis in 
1904.* It was one of the most ambitious ever attempted and indeed, 
with all its many excellences, its scale was what gave it its greatest fame 
(Fig. 42). The site selected was Forest Park, an admirable choice from 
the point of view of the site itself, but open to criticism in that it involved 
the destruction of trees and developed park land. It is always a question 
in an exposition as to whether it is better to select the best site, or the worst 
and develop it. The former system makes for a better exposition but 
leaves the city poorer; the latter handicaps the designer but leaves the city 
with well-developed land which formerly it did not have. The size of 
many of the buildings was overpowering and, though impressive in the ex- 
treme, ran the danger of exhausting the observer. The imposing Palace of 
Agriculture (Fig. 43), for example, by Carrére & Hastings, measured 500 
by 1,600 feet. It was, therefore, nearly a third of a mile long and, despite 
its awe-inspiring bulk, could hardly avoid a suggestion of monotony, while 
the thought of entering it to explore its collection was inhibitory to all ex- 
cept the most courageous and physically energetic. Other buildings, like 


* For detailed account, see pamphlet published by the Louisiana Purchase Exposition 
Company and printed at the Government Printing Office, 1903. 


PORTLAND 
1905 


[a] 
ATLANTA 
1896 


CHARLESTON 
1901 ~ 1902 


CrnIcCAGO 
. 1893 


a 


Thousends of feet 


Drawn by Morley J. Williams. 


Fic. 42. Plans Showing Comparative Scales of American Expositions. 


$2 


THE DEVELOPMENT OF AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE 53 


the Palace of Transportation, by E. L. Masqueray, with its frontage of 
1,300 feet, the Machinery Hall, with 1,000, and the Palace of Manufac- 
tures and the Palace of Varied Industries, with 1,200 respectively, were 
well in scale. An intramural railway was provided to enable visitors to 
get about the grounds without exhaustion, but the buildings themselves 
were a defiance to the leg-weary. 

None the less, the general effect was beautiful, even fairylike. The 
Festival Hall and Cascades, designed by Cass Gilbert and E. L. Masqueray 
(Fig. 44), were coherently planned, broadly laid out, and combined a fun- 
damental orderliness with the richness and play of fancy which appertain 
properly to a fair ground, no matter how monumentally conceived. The 
slope of the ground was recognised as one of the assets of the site and, 
with the water feature, gave the design a striking individuality. There 
was, to be sure, a suggested note of impermanence to the work, but one 
might argue that this was only a propriety in the design of so evanescent 
a group as a world’s fair. 

One, however, the admirable Palace of Arts (Fig. 45), by Cass Gil- | 
bert, was destined to remain, at least in part, as a nucleus for the great St. 
Louis Museum of Fine Arts. Magnificently placed from the esthetic 
point of view, the site has been criticised as being inaccessible from the city. 
The complaint has point, but it is hard to know how else to solve the prob- 
lem, with the needs as to area so great and the land values in the populous 
centre so enormous. In the civic centres there is the additional disadvan- 
tage of heavy traffic which, unless unusual precautions are taken with the 
foundation, is bound to cause a certain amount of vibration in the structure. 
Any one who has wrestled with the problem of exhibiting delicate works 
of art, like the panels of medizval Italian painting, will know that a great 
sacrifice is none too much for the avoidance of this danger. Nevertheless, 
the present placing of the St. Louis Museum renders it one more of the 
many unhappy examples in this country of the great building intended for 
all which is used only by the few. ‘Tremendous as the present structure 
is, it is only a unit of what is planned and for which there is at present no 
need. Both designer and museum authorities have been criticised for so 
ambitious a plan. They should, rather, be congratulated. The rapidity 
with which museum collections in America outgrow their quarters is both 
encouraging and depressing. The designer who plans a work which can, 


© Louisiana Exposition Co. 


Fic. 43. Sr. Lovis, Mo. Louisiana Purchase Exposition: The Palace of Agriculture. 
Carrere &§ Hastings, Architects. 


© Louisiana Exposition Co. 


Fic. 44. Sr. Louis, Mo. Louisiana Purchase Exposition: Festival Hall and Cascades. 
Cass Gilbert and E. L. Masqueray, Architects. 


54 


"JagtyI4p “JsagiiyH ssvy “Buipying syry :uontsodxy asvyoing vuvismoy “OW SIN] Le = Gy OT 


“s4ayjorg paisujgQ fo «sano 


56 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


according to the design, be expanded to two or three times the capacity 
“which will ever be needed” is only recognising the healthy and energetic 
tendencies of his country. | 
Closely following the St. Louis Exposition of 1904 came the James- 
town Exposition of 1906, in which Virginia and the South Atlantic sea- 
board displayed a worthy ambition not to be outshone by the great cities 
of the West. Although named after the famous Colonial site and in hon- 
our of the settlers who built there, for obvious reasons the exposition was 
placed at Norfolk, Va., where it was more easily accessible, was close to a 
town of considerable size, and had the asset of being upon the sea. This 
last was taken advantage of in the layout, and the marine feature was em- 
phasised both in the design and in the conduct of the fair. As might have 
been expected, an especial point was made of the historical associations of 
the site and its environs. The size of Norfolk, however, and the limita- 
tion of the funds available, made the exposition more modest than the 
great fairs of the past. Though the charm and historic interest were great, 
the architectural lessons to be learned were not especially important. 
Another comparatively modest exposition, the Alaska-Yukon-Pacific, 
was held at Seattle in 1909. Here, as at Norfolk, the tremendous pecu- 
niary resources of Chicago and St. Louis were not available. Neverthe- 
less, a great deal was made of a picturesque site. The exposition was 
placed at a point midway between Lakes Union and Washington, half an 
hour’s trolley ride from the business section of the city (Fig. 46). Here 
a beautiful park, with attendant buildings, was designed, using the majes- 
tic pile of the distant Mount Ranier as a focal point for the main axis. 
The general layout of the grounds was intrusted to Olmsted Brothers, 
the architect in charge was J. G. Howard, of Howard & Galloway, archi- 
tect of the University of California. As one might have expected, the 
Olmsteds made the most of the wooded site with its many natural advan- 
tages. The buildings were of less interest than the general design. The 
Government Building, with its flattened dome and huge arched base, was 
rather confused in composition, though the huge terraced cascade was very — 
effective. Some of the smaller buildings—for example, the California 
Building (Fig. 47), by Sellen & Heming—were of greater interest. This 
was a reflection of the tendency, already happily manifest in California, | 
to make the local architecture conform to the historical California type. 


Fic. 46. Srarrte, Wasu. Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exposition: Perspective. 
Olmsted Brothers, Landscape Architects. 


Courtesy of Olmsted Brothers. 


Fic. 47. Seatrie, Wasn. Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exposition: California Building. 
Sellen & Heming, Architects. 


57 


58 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


Though geographically out of place, of course, at Seattle, the building was 
justified by embodying the character of the State which it represented. 
Though more admirable examples have been done since then, the Califor- 
nia Building was able to call the attention of many people to the possibili- 
ties of a typically Californian composition. The Seattle Exposition was, 
however, too modest in scope and in too distant a corner of the country to 
draw the huge crowds and exert the powerful influence on architecture of 
some of the earlier and more ambitious fairs. One of its happiest effects, 
however, was the use of its site for the present carefully planned and rap- 
idly expanding University of Washington. 

Two of the latest, most notable American expositions were held in 
1915. One, the Panama-Pacific, was at San Francisco; the other, the Pan- 
ama-California International, at San Diego. Both were glorifications of the 
State of California and celebrations of the American triumph of the Pan- 
ama Canal. It was unfortunate that these occurred one year after the 
outbreak in Europe of the Great War. Although America was not yet a 
belligerent, men’s minds were focussed on things more serious than fairs 
and, especially in the East, where the European catastrophe was realised 
more keenly, many people who would otherwise have made a pilgrimage 
to the West felt the necessity of spending their time and money on things . 
connected with the war. On the other hand, the expositions had been 
planned long before any one had dreamed of war, the work had to go 
through, and it is to the greatest credit of the Californian cities that they 
made the expositions so brilliant a success in the face of obstacles which 
they could not have anticipated. As it was, the works were completed on 
time, enthusiastically received by Americans all over the country, and the 
attendance, though in a different year it might have been larger, was grati- 
fyingly large. 

The San Francisco Exposition was, naturally, the larger of the two. 
It was forcefully put through by that energetic city of optimists who 
wished to prove to the world that a disaster like the earthquake and fire 
of 1906, which might well have killed a civic community, was but an epi- 
sode in the history of San Francisco. Although Eastern architects were 
employed, the majority of the architectural council was drawn from local 
talent and the attempt seemed deliberate to prove, along with broad- 
minded co-operation and courteous hospitality to members of the profes- 


THE DEVELOPMENT OF AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE 59 


sion from other States, that San Francisco sapeva fare da se. A most un- 
promising site, with distinct latent possibilities, was selected just within the 
Golden Gate at the entrance to San Francisco Harbour. Well over half 
the area was twenty-five feet deep in salt water. This artificial lake was 
separated from San Francisco Bay by a stout sea wall and the east lake was 
filled by pumping dredgers with silt from the harbour. All this was done 
while the architects were preparing working drawings and, as at Chicago, 
the city was enriched by permanently improved land. Unquestionably 
Golden Gate Park would have made a finer site, but its use would have in- 
volved destruction instead of permanent improvement. San Francisco fol- 
_ lowed one scheme, St. Louis, as we have seen, another.* The protagonists 
of both sides have strong arguments but, bearing in mind the ephemeral 
nature of even the greatest exposition and its enormous cost, the average 
man will always approve of a scheme which leaves behind it something of 
solid and permanent value. 

The effect of the San Francisco Exposition was more splendid than 
refined. Colour was used lavishly, and this we may applaud, especially 
in a district of bright sun and vivid natural colour. The most striking 
architectural features were the two triumphal arches, of the Rising Sun 
and the Setting Sun, the Rotunda and Palace of the Fine Arts, and the 
Tower of the Jewels. The plan showed an orderly arrangement, with a 
long axis running through the Court of Abundance in the centre of the de- 
sign and minor axes symmetrically developed at right angles to it. The 
triumphal arches, enormous in scale, marked the entrances east and west 
to the Court of Abundance. When we look at a photograph of the Arch 
of the Rising Sun (Fig. 48) (McKim, Mead & White), with its massive 
proportions and colossal statuary, we must visualise it as actually larger 
than the Arc de l’Etoile in Paris. 

The Tower of the Jewels (Fig. 49), by Carrére & Hastings, was the 
most striking monument of all. It was. 435 feet in height, built up in re- 
ceding stages, angle turrets and sculpture being used to disguise the hori- 
zontal lines at succeeding levels and give the mass a soaring verticality 
despite its classic detail. On the top was a colossal group of herculean fig- 
ures supporting a globe. By daylight the scheme was not entirely suc- 


*L. C. Mullgardt, “The Panama-Pacific Exposition,” in the Architectural Record, 
Mareh;1915, vol. 37. 


*soaptyI4p SSBUIISO]] G) e4I4dvZ 
e1sodxyq [euoleulaquy Iyorg-ewvurd 


*sjama . jo Jamoy, :u0G 
“1V2) ‘OOSIONVY YY NYG 


“6p “Ol 


sUOTjIS 


sponysp “2 & pra ‘MyIN “UNg Bursry 243 JO Ysy 
odxy jeuoneusequy oylorg-eweurg “IV ‘OOSIONVUY NVS * 


the 


Peseery 


8h ‘OMY 


60 


THE DEVELOPMENT OF AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE 61 


cessful, the horizontality of the stages being rather too pronounced, despite 
the efforts of the architects to break it up. On the other hand, at night, 
when huge search-lights were made to play upon the 125,000 cut-glass 
prisms set in the building, the tower was a vision of beauty. 

There were, of course, many other buildings of interest and beauty. 
Louis C. Mullgardt’s Cloister (Fig. 51) was a rich and sparkling attempt 
to suggest the Spanish and take advantage of the brilliance of the Califor- 
nia sun. The same quality which makes the Spanish plateresque so fine 
made this piece singularly happy and appropriate in San Francisco. Be- 
hind it may be seen the saucer-shaped dome of the Palace of Varied In- 
dustries by Bliss & Faville, one of the most extensive, most effective, and 
very simplest of the great buildings at the fair. Another interesting piece, 
rich in ornament, was the Horticultural Hall (Fig. 50), by Bakewell & 
Brown. Here an enormous dome, expressed in steel and delicately but- 
tressed, was surrounded by slender obelisks and faced by a still pool. The 
dome was perhaps a trifle too heavy for its base, but the whole scheme 
attained a desired combination of mass, grace, and ordered profusion. 

Brilliant as it was, the exposition at San Francisco was partially eclipsed 
in the public esteem by that at San Diego. Here the problem was simpler 
and the work on a smaller scale. The architect in charge and designer of 
several of the most important buildings was the late Bertram Grosvenor 
Goodhue, one of the most sensitive, imaginative, and progressive artists 
that American architecture has produced. Studying first under Renwick, 
his early training was in Gothic and, as a member of the firm of Cram, 
Goodhue & Ferguson, he made a reputation as a modern Gothicist, able 
to create without imitation and bring modern Gothic as near to the level 
of its thirteenth-century prototype as can be done without the aid of the 
medizval bands of craftsmen. Too broad in his interests, however, to use 
only one vocabulary, he experimented in others and sought sensibly to 
develop a truly modern style which might present something sanely new 
and yet uninfluenced by the bogey which leads many artists to avoid any 
suggestion of the influence of the past. At San Diego he realised the pos- 
sibilities of the geographical site and decided to make the exposition an 
ensemble which harmonised with the historic traditions and climatic char- 
acter of Southern California. 

That he succeeded, every one who saw the exposition will enthusias- 


amar 


ba 
Ant 
ts ytesiione F 


Pt gga thie! 2 AE cae Oe, 


Fic. 50. San Francisco, CAtirF. Panama-Pacific International Exposition: Horticultural Hall. 
Bakewell 8 Brown, Architects. 


Fic. 51. San Francisco, CAtir. Panama-Pacific International Exposition: Cloister of the Court 
of Abundance. Louis C. Mullgardt, Architect. 


62 


~ 
73 
. é 
‘ ae 
4 
Be ES 
BS erste OS BS Bar 
“ie re os 
ee Bonnie r Pesto eee 
ec eatenean 88 . 
} ‘ 
0g 
pe: 
tec ar e 
* Fe sah tO 


Photograph by Herbert R. Fitch. 


eee an 


Fic. 52. San Dieco, Cauir. Panama-California International Exposition: Bridge and California State Building. Bertram G. Goodhue, Architect. 


64 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY - 


tically attest.* His block plan was a simple one, long and narrow, with 
the strongest possible accent on the long axis. The approach was by a 
straight road over a deep gorge, to span which he designed a magnificent 
bridge, later simplified, but still a fine feature. Beyond the gorge rose the 
buildings, sparkling in sharp contrasts of light and shade and vibrant in 
harmonious colours boldly used in full intensity. Since the exposition was, 
strictly speaking, more Californian than international, Mr. Goodhue 1m- 
posed a scheme of Spanish Californian architecture, recognising the value 
‘n that district and that climate of the Spanish exuberant baroque, which 
might have crossed the edge of vulgarity had it been exhibited in a differ- 
ent setting. Some of the more important buildings he designed himself, 
others he gave to other men, like Frank P. Allen, Carleton M. Winslow, 
and the Rapp brothers, who entered enthusiastically into the scheme and 
worked wonders in brilliant design. 

It is hard to know what buildings especially to emphasise. At the out- 
set one should consider the striking approach, with the concrete bridge 
(Fig. 52), its immense bare arches leading the eye across the Laguna del 
Puente to the California Building (Fig. 53) in the distance. This, by 
Goodhue himself, was perhaps the masterpiece of the exposition. It was 
based frankly upon the Spanish Colonial of Mexico, and recalls directly 
the Balvanera Chapel of the Church of San Francisco in the City of Mex- 
ico. In true Spanish fashion, the light is allowed to play over broad sur- — 
faces untouched by any suggestion of form, while the richest profusion of 
ornament is concentrated in other fields. Not only is there an almost daz- 
zling glitter of light and dark within the ornamental fields, but there 1s 
the further vibration of interest between these fields and the great masses 
of light reflected from the planes of the juxtaposed unadorned walls. How 
rich the decoration was can be judged by a closer view of the facade (Fig. 
54). Mr. Goodhue, a sojourner in Mexico, had assimilated the soul of 
Spanish Colonial as previously he caught the very spirit of Gothic art. 
The most was made of the luxuriant vegetation possible at San Diego, and 
a glance at one of the courts (Fig. 55) will show how happily the garden 
~ design was adapted to the architectural setting. 


* The Architecture and Gardens of the San Diego Exposition, by C. M. Winslow, with 
an introduction by B. G. Goodhue, San Francisco, 1919. Also the ‘Panama-California 
Exposition,” by Matlack Price, in the Architectural Record, 1915, p. 229. 


© Harold wa Pohlay: © Harold A. Tarlo: : 


Fic. 53. San Disco, Car. Panama-Cali- Fic. 54. San Disco, Carir. Panama-Cali- 
fornia International Exposition: California fornia International Exposition: California 
State Building. Bertram G. Goodhue, Architect. State Building. Bertram G. Goodhue, Architect. 


© Harold A. Taylor. 


Fic. 55. San Disco, Cauir. Panama-California International Exposition: La Laguna de las Flores. 
Bertram G. Goodhue, Architect. 


65 


66 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


Though the ensemble was unusually coherent, there was no impres- 
sion of monotony and within certain limits the buildings differed widely 
one from another. For example, in the New Mexico Building the Rapp 
brothers, of Trinidad, Colo., designed a structure in the “Pueblo” style. 
Of this we shall have more to say later. At first glance nothing would 
seem less promising for architectural inspiration than a pueblo village. 
Let us look, for example, at the pueblo village at Taos, New Mexico 
(Fig. 56). Rudely constructed of sun-dried adobe mud, with crude beams 
projecting from the walls, one would think the average architect would 
recoil from the idea of being inspired in any way by such an untutored 
and barbaric performance. Look again, however, and one notes a real 
harmony got by the repetition of the same simple shapes, a monumental- 
ity attained by the frank piling up of block upon block, and a sparkle 
reached through the deep shadows cast sharply upon the brilliantly lighted 
plain walls. Based upon these elements, Rapp & Rapp created a building 
harmoniously proportioned, monumental, practical, and vibrant in the play 
of light and shade (Fig. 57). In this simple way the pueblo Indians at- 
tained effects not unlike that of the Spanish baroque. A sophisticated adap- 
tation of their style was in perfect harmony with the rest of the work at 
San Diego. | 

Modest as was the exposition in scope and scale it was an immense 
success. It is probably not too much to say that it made the most vivid 
impression upon the public mind of any exposition since the White City 
at Chicago. In its originality, moreover, it pointed a healthy lesson in the 
possibilities of variation in this type of design. 

We have devoted a great deal of time in our discussion to the history _ 
of expositions, yet the emphasis is justified. They have constituted one of 
the most vital influences in the progress of our art. Though the general 
trend has been classical, hence conservative, so that the modernist often 
complains that the expositions, and especially that at Chicago, have acted 
as a drag rather than a spur to American originality, the fact remains that 
they have done more probably than anything else to educate the public 
to an appreciation of the possibilities of architecture. Indeed, since we are 
discussing the American architecture of to-day rather than “modern” Amer- 
ican architecture, this very classic conservatism is one of the most important | 
tendencies to note. As we have observed, it is exactly in line with the trend 


x er 


a a nace. coca eee 


Fic. 56. Taos, N.M. Pueblo Village. 


Fic. 57. San Disco, Catir. Panama-California International Exposition: New Mexico Building. 
Rapp & Rapp, Architects. 


67 


68 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


of American architecture in Colonial and Early Republican times. Though 
radical experiments were made even at Chicago in 1893, and are a vital 
force in the American architecture of to-day, classicism is still in the van. 
Whether it will remain so is a question for the prophet and not for the 
present-day observer. 

Many other lessons were taught by the expositions. American archi- 
tecture above all needed to learn to plan in a big way, each building de- 
signed with an eye to its relation to all the others. In our earlier municipal 
work and, alas, in much that is being done to-day, buildings were put up 
haphazard. Land values increase, cities grow at an unbelievable rate, 
buildings are erected swiftly in answer to sudden needs, and there seems 
often no time and no will to plan and to carry out a comprehensive scheme. 
The desirability, however, of thoughtful and co-ordinated layouts has been 
taught by one after another of the expositions, so that even the careless 
layman is beginning to see the point. 

In this connection we should touch upon the work of the landscape 
architect. The combined skill, taste, and sense of Olmsted’s plan for the 
Chicago Exposition won recognition not only for himself but for his pro- 
fession. From that time landscape architecture began to take itself and 
be taken more seriously. The kind of ability which conquered the physi- 
cal difficulties of the White City, while attaining the zsthetic values which 
were the primary object, could certainly be applied profitably to the greater 
problem of city planning. To be sure, city planning 1s a vastly more com- 
plicated thing than planning an exposition. No individual can plan a city. 
The architect, the landscape architect, the lawyer, sociologist, engineer, 
the economist, sanitary expert, and many others must confer and co-oper- 
ate in city planning. Nevertheless, an individual must be the moving 
spirit. Though members of many professions have occupied this position, 
a large share—some architects would say too large a share—of the re- 
sponsible work has gone to the profession of landscape architecture.” With- 
out pushing the suggestion too far, this is no doubt due in part to the grasp 
of planning on a large scale which the landscape architects have shown in 
their co-operation in the design of our great expositions. 


* The School of Landscape Architecture at Harvard has, within two years, established 
a special curriculum leading to the degree of Master in Landscape Architecture with spe- 
cial reference to city planning. | 


THE DEVELOPMENT OF AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE 69 


Before we can enter upon any discussion of types and individual mod- 
ern buildings, there are several other points in connection with the gen- 
eral development of American architecture which must be discussed. The 
most important of these is modern steel construction. Of paramount im- 
portance in commercial architecture, no element has quite so influenced 
modern work as the possibilities opened by the use of steel. This, hand 
in hand with the development of the high-powered, rapidly moving ele- 
vator, has produced the most striking innovations in modern American 
design. Though Europe has had the same opportunity, the use of steel 
has been so much more emphasised in this country that it can almost be 
claimed a peculiarly American feature, as it is, in a narrower sense, a truly 
American invention. We shall have to discuss it in detail when we con- 
sider the category of the skyscraper, but here we must say something of 
its invention, its principle, its development, and the new theories of design 
which it involved. 

Steel construction in building has been divided into two types: the 
“skeleton” and the “cage.” The first is less important. It embodies the use 
of steel supports for floors and roofs, while the walls are self-supporting. 
The latter, however, brings us to the typical modern steel building. In it 
the steel construction supports not only the floors and roof but the masonry 
walls. The change in principle can briefly be stated. In its homeliest 
terms it might be put as follows: up to the invention of modern steel con- 
struction a building was conceived as a structure of walls, the walls sup- 
porting tiers of beams which carried the floors and the roof; with the in- 
vention of steel construction the process was reversed, and instead of the 
walls carrying the beams the beams carried the walls. 

The conditions which brought about the invention are as simple to un- 
derstand. Congestion, restricted areas, high land values, made it desir- 
able to carry buildings up many stories and take full advantage of the land 
covered. Limiting the height of the buildings, however, were two im- 
portant considerations. All walls, to be self-supporting, must have a solid 
base. If carried high, they must be thickened constantly at the base. Six 
or eight stories were practical and reasonable; raise the limit to fifteen or 
twenty and the enormous mass of masonry necessary to support the crush- 
ing weight of the walls themselves, and the floors which they supported, 
made the design impractical. Moreover, there was the difficulty of com- 


70 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


munication to the upper stories. The lower ones, cramped by the masses 
of masonry, were less desirable; the upper ones, difficult of access. To 
conquer these difficulties came steel construction and the high-speed ele- 
vator. 

Moreover, the difficulties before these inventions seemed to encourage 
bad design. Some of the worst examples of American architecture seemed 
to be inspired by commercial buildings in which the emphasis was perforce 
on verticality. It is perhaps unfair to single out a particular example, but, 
as an illustration, we might consider the Fagin Building (Fig. 58) in St. 
Louis. It was rightly published as one of the architectural aberrations of 
the United States,* yet it is only one characteristic example of scores of 
structures which unsuccessfully attacked the problem of the vertically ac- 
cented commercial building. The freedom of steel construction was needed, 
not only to solve the practical difficulties but to spur and stimulate the 
designer to a serious study of the problem and the possibility of a new 
zesthetic solution. 

The question of the invention of steel construction has long been un- 
der dispute. As in the case of most great inventions, many contributed 
and there were early attempts and half solutions which gave their inven- 
tors the opportunity to claim priority in the matter. At least one struc- 
ture which seemed to recognise the principle was erected in New York 
early in the century, but the real comprehension of the possibilities of steel 
construction and its first practical use. was in a work by Jenney & Mundie, 
of Chicago, in 1889.+ Though A. L. Buffington, of Minneapolis, had 
patented a system for a metallic skeleton in building which embodied many . 
of the features of the new construction, it seems to have been an unscien- 
tific affair, and the suits which he sought to bring for infringement never 
got to the courts. By 1891 the new invention was accepted as more than 
an experiment and from then on American architecture was armed with 
a new weapon, the power of which is the most striking thing in its aspect 
to-day. Indeed, one great writer on the history of architecture called it 
the fourth of the great structural advances which have given architecture 
new resources, the other three being the Roman vault, the Gothic ribbed 


* The Architectural Record, April—June, 1893, p. 471 
+A. D. F. Hamlin, “Twenty-five Years of American “Archi teceavee The Architectural 
Record, July, 1916. 


From the “ Architectural Record.’ 


Fie. 58. Sr. Louis, Mo. Fagin Building. Hapsove New Yorn, Nev. The” Klaciron 


Building Under Construction. 
D. H. Burnham & Co., Architects. 


Photograph by Wurts Brothers. 
Fic. 60. New York, N. Y. A Modern Steel Fic. 61. New York, N. Y. Metropolitan Life 


Building Nearly Finished. Insurance Company. 
N. LeBrun & Sons, Architects. 


71 


72. THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


vault and masonry skeleton, and the metallic truss, which added a wholly 
new spaciousness and lightness to modern construction.* | 

As always when a new form of construction comes into being, at first 
the designers fumbled, the public misunderstood, and the critics attacked. 
Indeed, the true conception of a steel building is understood by few lay- 
men, even to-day. It is hard for the laymen to think of a building prop- 
erly constructed with the masonry walls hung to the frame. If we look 
at an early work in process of construction of the type of the Flatiron 
Building (Fig. 59) in New York, built in 1902 by D. H. Burnham & Co.,f 
our eyes are shocked to observe that the walls are completed in the middle 
but not at the bottom. A great expanse of heavy masonry seems suspended 
above a yawning void and looks as though it should crash down at any mo- 
ment. Yet regularly skyscrapers are so constructed, the better to allow for 
the admission of material at the lower stories. If the walls are carried by 
a cage of steel it is as easy to begin at the top and build the wall down as - 
vice versa, or to begin at the middle and build both ways (Fig. 60). The 
writer has sometimes shocked his friends when walking down Park Avenue, 
New York, by calling their attention to the immense buildings which flank 
the street and bidding them observe that where the walls touch the pave- 
ment there is a horizontal crack of a quarter to a half of an inch in breadth. 
If the eye is to be believed, twenty stories of wall are carried on an open 
crack! The wall, in other words, has ceased entirely to be a supporting 
member. It is merely an envelope to keep out the weather. It is built 
of stone or terra-cotta, partly because these materials are non-corrosive, 
partly because they are permanent, partly because they are beautiful, never 
because they are strong or are intended to take any active ae in the struc- 
tural scheme of the building. 

As might have been supposed, it took design some time to grasp the 
problems of the new construction and even to attempt to solve them, At 
first steel construction was only an engineering convenience, and designers 
merely piled up the box-like stories to the new heights which this type of 
construction and the rapidly developing elevator facilities allowed. It 
was still felt that the walls should have a classic repose, the roof a classic 
cornice, built at a breathless scale, usually of metal, and blatantly advertis- _ 


* Ibid, { The contractors were the Geo. A. Fuller Co. 


THE DEVELOPMENT OF AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE 73 


ing its uselessness from the street. As the buildings pushed higher and 
higher, critics, especially foreign critics, marvelled at the engineering skill 
displayed, but to a man regretted that American design had not risen to 
the opportunity of a new esthetic expression based upon the new struc- 
tural system. At the same time there were raised the obvious objections 
to the possible impermanence of the medium and dark forebodings as to 
the probable collapse of some of the more ambitious structures when the 
chemical character of the steel should have been changed by the slight but 
steady sway which the building must undergo on account of wind pressure 
and the occasional tremors of the earth. 

Design soon attacked the problem. At first the solutions tended to be 
archeological, attempts being made to find lofty buildings in past history 
which might be adapted to the modern needs and possess, ready-made, the 
zesthetic emphasis on verticality. Such works as the North Italian cam- 
_ panile were magnified into commercial skyscrapers, like the Metropolitan 
Life Building in New York by LeBrun (Fig. 61): A more constructive 
phase came when not monuments but styles in the past were scrutinised 
from the point of view of satisfactory solutions in verticality, and for ob- 
vious reasons the Gothic was hit upon as the style which solved the prob- 
lem. There is, indeed, a close analogy between Gothic and steel. The 
Gothic system is a skeleton of masonry, the modern designer attains much 
the same expression in steel. The constant ideal of the Gothic designer 
was to push his building higher and higher to the limit of financial re- 
sources and structural safety. The designer of the modern skyscraper does 
much the same. In short, the Gothic ideal and even the Gothic vocabulary 
is well adapted to steel construction and has been so proved in a number 
of great monuments. 

The use of no particular style, however, can ever attain a completely 
satisfactory solution. Soon the philosophy of zxsthetics demanded a logi- 
cal expression in the building of its peculiar structure. If the steel cage 
were the real building, the walls only an envelope, what more satisfactory 
than to announce this fact in the design? Indeed, could honest design do 
less? Thus argued the critics and many of the architects. Interesting ex- 
periments began along this line. The vertical lines were further empha- 
sised and the main verticals of the great structural piers were indicated 
on the exterior of the building. Great vertical slits were opened from base 


Savoy-Plaza Hotel. 


REEF 


| ee i 


Ho WE, eh 


New York, N. Y. 
McKim, Mead & White, Architects. 


Fic. 63. 


Tower. Eliel Saarinen, Designer. 


Fic. 62. Second-Prize Design for the Chicago Tribune 


74 


THE DEVELOPMENT OF AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE °K: 


to top, as in Saarinen’s drawing for the Chicago Tribune Building (Fig. 
62), which indicated the structure, showed the steel lines, and revealed the 
cage-like framework of the whole. At the same time an attempt was 
made, concurrent with the expression of structure but independent from 
it, to shake off all classic and even historic reminiscence and design an orna- 
ment as original as the structure. 

Ten years ago probably any one would have admitted the propriety 
of revealed structure as an axiom of design in steel. The theory was so 
completely logical, seemed so satisfactory, and the experiments in this di- 
rection were so full of promise, that it would have seemed presumptuous 
to combat the theory. Nevertheless, a number of architects ignored it and 
composed lofty buildings in steel, new in form and in many respects in 
design, but marked by no special attempt to reveal or emphasise the con- 
struction. Such a structure as the magnificent new hotel (Fig. 63), by Mc- 
Kim, Mead & White, at Fifth Avenue and Fifty-eighth Street, New York, 
has no such emphasis. The walls are plain. The rows of fine and simple 
windows accent the horizontal quite as much as the vertical. The envelope 
really conceals the structure. To be sure, the design is impressed by the 
structure, or rather is made possible by the structure, but it certainly is not 
based upon the structure, nor does it make any audible attempt to explain 
or, still less, to glorify it. | 

It will thus be condemned by many critics: as deception if they be moral 
ones, as old-fashioned and unprogressive if they be modernists. On the 
other hand, it represents a very marked tendency in the design of build- 
ings of this construction. Indeed, if we were to render a decision in 1927, 
without considering the future, we should be inclined to assert that the 
classic and conservative point of view had won the battle against the the- 
ory of revealed structure. The defence of the conservative side would be 
easy to anticipate. Greater familiarity with steel construction means less 
necessity for expressing it in the design. At first, when the system was 
new, men clamoured for honesty of expression in design. If a wall were 
only an envelope, incapable even of supporting its weight, such a fact 
should be advertised on the exterior of the building. As we become more 
accustomed to the construction, however, we realise that the very mass and 
height of the building proclaims its construction. Little thought is re- 
quired to convince us that a masonry wall thirty-five to fifty stories high 


76 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


is not self-supporting. Familiar with the fact, we become less insistent in 
design upon a proclamation of the obvious. 

In other words, expression of the steel structure may be the solution 
of the problem, but need not of necessity be. The problem is much broader 
than that of a mere expression of structure. More classic formule may 
be applied to it without producing reactionary work. 

One thing is certain, we shall never go back to the first type of sky- 
scrapers, box-like structures, built like expansible bookcases on end, unit 
placed upon unit, until the desired height 1s reached. And we may expect, 
as well as devoutly trust, that the enormous and illogical cornices which 
were felt necessary as crowning features to our early tall buildings have | 
disappeared for all time. 

Another element, closely related to steel construction and vastly influ- 
ential, was the development of reinforced or ferro-concrete. The possi- 
bilities of concrete had long been recognised. Its resistance to crushing 
weight was admirable, but it afforded little resistance to shearing pressure 
and its tensile strength was negligible. It was found that by embedding 
iron, or later steel, in the concrete, these defects could be remedied. The 
earliest experiments in this line go back as far as 1868 in France, but. 
the use of reinforced concrete was not seriously introduced into the United 
States until the late eighties, when it began to be used in California.* Its 
possibilities were recognised almost immediately and its use rapidly spread. 
It was especially adapted for great factories and industrial plants, but it 
was soon found that it could be treated architecturally, afforded beautiful 
effects, and could be applied happily to any building the functions of 
which required enormous scale. Perhaps the most conspicuous monuments 
have been the great amphitheatres and stadia that abound in our cities and 
universities. The possibilities of the medium are, however, well-nigh in- 
exhaustible. : 

Finally there is one more general tendency to be noted in the history 
of architecture upon which we must dwell before we discuss any individ- 
ual buildings or categories of building in detail. We have already touched 
upon it in connection with the Columbian Exposition, when we mentioned 
the Transportation Building of the late Louis Sullivan. It is the modern- 


* Ransome, E. L., and Saurbrey, A., Reinforced Concrete Buildings, New York, 1912, 
p- 4. 


THE DEVELOPMENT OF AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE 77 


istic movement which has made great strides, especially in the West. Its 
roots are found in the work of Adler & Sullivan, in Chicago. Of the two, 
Adler was primarily the business man and engineer, Sullivan the architec- 
tural designer.* The team-work was perfect, and the buildings of the firm 
soon attracted a wide attention. In the beginning, the zsthetic expression 
was probably largely determined by considerations of structure. Adler & 
Sullivan were about the earliest designers on a large scale of steel con- 
struction. Such a building as the Auditorium in Chicago (Fig. 64), com- 
bining a huge theatre with an hotel, offered extraordinary engineering 
difficulties and challenged extraordinary treatment in design. Its rugged 
exterior, suggesting Richardsonian Romanesque, looks old-fashioned now 
but was revolutionary in 1891. In the exterior ornament, however, and 
especially in the interior, Sullivan deliberately attempted new forms. His 
philosophy formed the credo of the new school, and its principal tenet 
was the avoidance of imitation of the past. With this, perforce, went the 
necessity of inventing new forms which were not only different, but beau- 
tiful. These were to be sought in nature, in rock forms, in crystals, in 
anything that could supply inspiration to the eye unspoiled by a devotion 
to precedent. The broad vaults of the auditorium proper (Fig. 65) were 
covered with a new and very interesting ornament. Colour was used, in- 
termingling with foliate forms of a type untaught in earlier styles. Simi- 
larly, the great dining-hall received decoration of a deliberately original 
sort. The decorations for the bar (Fig. 66) are characteristic. Great rec- 
tangular blocks took the place of the capitals with echini and abaci of clas- 
sical architecture. Ornament was devised which seemed to the designer 
apt for the expression of the stones and the metals involved. Imagina- 
tion, invention, independence, a new structure and its new expression, were 
the deliberate aims of the designers. 

In the beginning, as in the beginning of all philosophy, the issues were 
not entirely clear. Sullivan’s ideas developed, however, and about him he 
gathered a group of young enthusiasts who helped him, who understood 
his aims, who carried his work further, and gave his artistic philosophy a 
more definite form. Among these was Frank Lloyd Wright. He not only 
designed in the new manner, but wrote to explain his aims as well. Through 


* The Architectural Record, December, 1895, for interesting early account of the work 
of these men. 


TIMI. “arent menamants 1 ienemteet si 
Dectttiteemen soaked ahmemeet aeccmemmeaellll 


Fic. 65. Cuicaco, Int. Auditorium Building. Fic. 66. Curtcaco, Iti. Auditorium Building: 
Adler & Sullivan, Architects. Bar. Adler & Sullivan, Architects. 


78 


THE DEVELOPMENT OF AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE 79 


his writing we can study not only his point of view but that of his master, 
to whom he pays every tribute and whose philosophy he expounds.* At 
the end of his career Sullivan, too, published his Autobiography of an 
Idea,+ an intensely personal document which tells us much, not only of 
the man but of his artistic ideals. 

The Sullivan movement affected the West especially, but Eeeiged 
wide recognition abroad. The French particularly, with their modernistic 
tendencies, applauded it. As we have seen, Sullivan was given an oppor- 
tunity to show his work juxtaposed to that of the other greatest architects 
in the country when he built the Transportation Building at the Chicago 
Exposition (Fig. 38). In an ensemble aggressively classical, he put up a 
building of no classic reminiscence. Superficially, it was more Romanesque 
than anything; actually, it followed no known style, was thought out in 
an entirely new way, and adorned with an entirely new decorative system. 
To many its force was brutality, and its lack of congruity with the other 
buildings was acridly discussed. On the other hand, the Société Centrale 
des Arts Decoratifs awarded a medal to Sullivan, the only French testi- 
monial elicited by the display at the fair. 

Adler & Sullivan carried their new style whole-heartedly into all types 
of buildings. Some, like the St. Nicholas Hotel, St. Louis (Fig. 67), the 
designers probably thought wholly original, while, as a matter of fact, they 
are very reminiscent of the past and notably the Queen Anne style. Oth- 
ers, like Mr. Sullivan’s residence, Lake Avenue, Chicago (Fig. 68), were 
entirely original and wholly charming. The style, with its rectangulari- 
ties, its sharp corners, its crushing masses, is usually forceful rather than 
delicate. In his own house Mr. Sullivan proved that the same style could 
embody delicate charm. Even tombs he designed, like the Getty Tomb in 
Graceland Cemetery (Fig. 69), using the new forms for the expression 
both of force and repose. His success in domestic architecture inspired 
Wright especially, whose earlier work was in this particular field. 

Wright is probably the best known living exponent of the style. Such 
domestic monuments as the Coonley House at Riverside, Ill. (Figs. 71, 
72), or, for monumental work, his famous Imperial Hotel at Tokio (Figs. 
335, 336, 337), are the embodiments of modernism or even secessionism 


* Frank Lloyd Wright. Published by C. A. Mees, Santpoort, Holland, 1925. 
+ Press of the American Institute of Architects, New York, 1924. 


Residence of Louis Sullivan, Architect. 


Cuicaco, ILL. 


Fic. 68. 


St. Nicholas Hotel. 


Adler & Sullivan, Architects. 


Sr. Louis, Mo. 


Fic. 67. 


Fic. 69. Cutcaco, Itt. Graceland Cemetery: Getty Tomb. 
Adler & Sullivan, Architects. 


Fic. 70. Ex Paso, Texas. Mills Building. Trost & Trost, Architects. 
81 


Fic. 72, RiversipeE, Itt. Coonley House: Playhouse Interior. Frank Lloyd Wright, Architect. 
82 


THE DEVELOPMENT OF AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE 83 


in American architecture. Many other architects have followed the lead, 
however. Such a work as the Mills Building (Fig. 70) at El Paso, Texas 
(Trost & Trost), is designed in the spirit, and really in the letter, of Louis 
Sullivan’s ideas. Disciples were not lacking, though the movement has 
received far less attention in the East than in the West; a rather odd fact 
when we consider the generally greater conservatism of the West as com- 
pared to the East. The modernistic movement has its affinities with those 
abroad which are producing such interesting—and oftentimes, it must be 
confessed, such bizarre—buildings in Germany and the Netherlands. It 
is related to the modernism of Scandinavia and the movement which pro- 
duced the Paris Exposition of 1925. It is odd that it should appear in 
mid-Western America, skipping almost completely the Atlantic seaboard, 
but such is the fact. 

The whole question of modernism in American architecture is under 
dispute. On no point do opinions vary more widely, nor partisanships run 
more hot. To the modernist the conservative is an unimaginative beast 
in a treadmill, monotonously turning over lifeless repetitions of the mas- 
terpieces of the past. To the classicist, the designer in a modernistic man- 
ner is but a charlatan bent upon being new for the advertising that new- 
ness brings and ruining architecture by his obliviousness to all the lessons 
which the past can teach. We of to-day are too close to the events to de- 
cide on the merits of the question. Posterity must judge what is perma- 
nently good and what is a momentary aberration. Of one thing we can 
be sure, however, that any movement as wide-spread and as ardently sup- 
ported must have good in it and, though its early experiments may prove 
to be clumsy and later be disavowed, the good eventually will appear. 

The danger which the modernist runs is an excessive fear of the past 
and its precedent. There is no artistic merit of necessity in originality. 
In so far as precedent is stifling to expression it is bad, but a thing may be 
as new as this morning’s sunrise and still be ugly and architecturally bad. 
Practitioners of all the arts to-day have made a fetich of originality. Strain- 
ing every nerve to be new, they often lose sight completely of what should 
be their steadfast aim: the expression of the beautiful. Striving merely to 
be different is as stupid as making direct copies of an ancient masterpiece. 
Whatever the final verdict, it will be based not upon newness, not upon 
originality, but upon beauty. If the protagonists of modernism keep this 


84 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


in mind, they will succeed. If they lose sight of it, their work will dis- 
appear. 

One good, however, they have already accomplished. ‘They have 
broken down the barriers of historic precedent and familiarised our civ- 
ilisation with new forms. They have encouraged us to shake off ideas of 
the necessity of stylistic correctness. Though we may not follow them 
over the whole road, we can benefit by their fresh view-point. Our archi- 
tectural problems are new and demand new solutions. We may well use 
the past and the vocabularies of the past, in so far as they assist us in the 
solution of these problems. We should never retain from force of habit 
the imitation of work from the past that cannot so assist us. We have 
seen how long an absurdity like the classic cornice on a skyscraper was re- 
tained. The new point of view helps us to slough off these anachronisms 
and design according to the new needs. Never should we lose sight of the 
past and its benefits, but never should we let it tyrannise us. American 
architecture is meeting new conditions, adapting itself to new structural 
systems, attacking new and complicated difficulties of every sort and on 
every side. In so doing, it must arm itself with every resource. It must 
look back to learn, to adapt, but not to imitate. It must look about intel- 
ligently to face the problems of to-day. It must look ahead to antici- 
pate the needs and conditions of the future and avoid those very mistakes 
which, in many cases, a scrutiny of the past can teach. What varied, what 
interesting, what successful attempts are being made we can see when we 
review, building by building, and type by type, the stimulating phenomena 
of the American architecture of to-day. 


a 
i 


7 * Ale | 
TIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE 


II 
THE DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE 


No matter what the type reviewed or district observed, the encour- 
aging fact which must strike every student of American architecture to- 
day is the vast improvement which has occurred in the last twenty-five to 
thirty-five years. In no work is this fact more conspicuous than in domes- 
tic architecture, and it is the more gratifying in this field since domestic 
architecture leans towards the conservative. 

As we have seen, during the seventies, eighties, and even nineties of 
the previous century, domestic architecture ran a riot of Queen Anne de- 
signs, of pseudo-Gothic, of jig-saw ornament that, except in a few exam- 
ples, represented the most depressing depth to which American work has 
ever sunk. Towards the end of the century, however, a change set in. 
Picturesqueness ceased to be the chief aim of the designer and sobriety 
became the vogue. Romanticism-in architecture began to disappear, or 
rather, the romantic emotions which previously had encouraged the erec- 
tion of medizval chateaux, of Swiss chalets, and of Shakesperian half- 
timber, came to be associated with our own Colonial style. The result 
was a purification of the work and an increase of simplicity and chastity 
in American taste. The early twentieth century saw an enthusiastic Colonial 
revival in all parts of the country. 

That this Colonial revival was an excellent thing for American archi- 
tecture few will deny. It concentrated attention on attractive models, 
well proportioned and with detail marked by a truly American refinement. 
It also permitted, in rural architecture especially, a reversion to what archi- 
tect and client felt was a truly national style. Patriotic and historic in- 
terest in this case coincided with the best interests of architecture. Espe- 
cially in modest rural dwellings wholesome and charming examples began 
to multiply in every district. Even houses on an impressive scale were 
built in the Colonial manner. When the houses were too large truly to 
imitate Colonial prototypes the desired effect was got by using a Colonial 
unit and multiplying it for the building of larger scale. 


87 


88 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


As might be expected, the movement pushed too far. It became too 
archeological. The proud client came to boast of his dwelling in terms — 
of its being “true Colonial” instead of objectively beautiful. Effects them- 
selves desirable were often condemned on the ground that they were not 
“truly Colonial,” and the cult of Colonial furniture stimulated the pur- 
chase, often at absurd prices, of pieces of dubious beauty merely because 
of their genuineness as Colonial work. ‘These were imitated by modern 
designers, while antique dealers extended the term “Colonial” to include 
anything up to the arrival of American Gothic. The wave of Colonial 
enthusiasm, like all such waves, caused a good deal of absurdity and still 
displays its dangers, but its tremendously beneficial effects should not be 
minimised. | : 

The most modern point of view is still more encouraging. While the 
average client still is inclined to appreciate in archeological terms, the 
modern architect has learned the lessons and virtues of Colonial work, but 
has passed beyond its imitation. He has come to the more fruitful and 
sounder phase of adaptation. He has realised that the fundamental vir- 
tue of Colonial architecture is its fitness to the locality in which it appeared, 
and he seeks to get this feeling in his:work. Much modern Colonial is 
still very archeological, but this is no vice provided the archeologising 
appears not as an aim in itself but as a means to obtain an esthetic result. 

Inevitably, at the same time, a domestic architecture appeared which 
was native, as fine in expression as true Colonial, but drawing its inspira- 
tion from many sources and obtaining its effects by an understanding of 
the proper use of local material quite as much as by the study of any work 
of the past. A brilliant example of this tendency one can see in the sub- 
urban work near Philadelphia. A nice conservatism, tempered by catholic : 
taste, and a real insistence on the fundamentals of good eee now marks 
the best of our domestic work. 

In a review of the field, it is well to begin with the more modest rural 
houses, leaving the great estates and city dwellings for later analysis. In 
studying the country dwellings, too, we shall note first those which have — 
a more marked archzological tendency and discuss next those of freer de- 
sign. In both cases we must remember that for each building we note ~ 
there may be a thousand others of its class that are as worth observing, 
and that each example we cite is to be regarded, strictly speaking, as an ex- 


THE DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE 8g 


ample and is not an unique specimen nor even necessarily the best of its 
class. On such a point opinion would differ and a far more exhaustive 
student than the writer would never arrogate to himself the position of 
arbiter nor even familiar of all that is being done in modern domestic archi- 
tecture to-day. 

Starting with the work in New England, the Colonial style is sub- 
divided into those buildings which reflect the medizval point of view of 
the seventeenth century and those which are inspired by the more classic 
Georgian of the eighteenth. To this might be added a third class, not 
Colonial at all, but based upon the classic architecture of the Early Repub- 
lic which, as we have seen, was more sophisticated than earlier styles, gen- 
erally more monumental in scale, but which had rooted affinities with the 
Colonial style. The materials were varied, brick, wood, and stone being 
used, but the favourite material was brick, generally with detail of door- 
ways, windows, and cornices in painted wood. Much fine work, however, 
especially of the seventeenth-century type, is being done entirely in wood. 
Indeed, the material is apt to be based upon the Colonial material that 
was popular in the district. Stone was the rarest material in Colonial 
times and is consequently rare in the buildings which we have under con- 
sideration. 

Interesting works of all types are appearing all over New England. 
The perfection of the motor-car, the attendant improvement in roads, and 
the ease of communication between the city and the country has encour- 
aged people, even of fairly modest means, to go long distances into the 
country, drawn thither either by sentimental ties of ancestry or by indi- 
vidual predilection for the scenic charm of a given district, and there to 
erect homes which are in harmony with the older architecture to be found 
in the region. 

As a most charming example of the seventeenth-century type, we 
might select a house at Exeter, R. I..(Fig. 73), designed by William 
T. Aldrich. Modest in effect, solid and old-fashioned in appearance, it 
is based upon the gambrel-roofed type so common in seventeenth-cen- 
tury New England. We have already seen its prototype in the Fair- 
banks house at Dedham (Fig. 1). In this case, the problem was to adapt 
an old design to modern needs, and especially a small house to a build- 
ing on a considerable scale, since the Exeter house, for all its modest ap- 


| Photograph by Paul rs Weber. ie a 
Fic. 73. Exeter, R.I. House. William T. Aldrich, Architect. 


Photogrash by Paul J. Wate 
Fic. 74. Fatmoutn, Mass. House. Coolidge, Shepley, Bulfinch {8 Abbott, Architects. 


go 


fire wOvMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE © o1 


pearance, is by no means an humble dwelling. The architect has used the 
device, common enough, of multiplying the single unit of an older build- 
ing, but has done it so skilfully that he has kept entirely the flavour and 
character of a building of the seventeenth century. The wooden surface, 
the stout proportions, the fat, comfortable chimneys, all are drawn from 
the earlier style and a twentieth-century building rests in perfect harmony 
among the quaint and stoutly built Colonial buildings of southern New 
England. All this has been obtained, and can always be obtained, by a 
talented architect, without sacrificing one whit of the conveniences of com- 
munication, functionalism of rooms, and the like, which the modern inmate 
demands. 

A building of a somewhat different type, but of the same general cate- 
gory, is the house which we reproduce, at Falmouth, Mass. (Fig. 74), by 
Coolidge, Shepley, Bulfinch & Abbott. Here the dwelling was a truly 
modest one. The designer’s problem was to simulate the proportions, 
character, and rough-shingled texture of the characteristic buildings of 
Cape Cod and, at the same time, create a comfortable, convenient house, 
at moderate cost, for a modern inmate. How well he has solved the prob- 
lem one can guess even from a glance at the elevation. Examination of 
the detail shows how the architect has avoided all parade of classic orna- 
ment, attaining the character of the prototype which we are justified in 
calling medizval, and relying upon straightforward revelation of struc- 
ture and upon sound proportion to obtain the undeniable charm which the 
building possesses. 

For one more example of the seventeenth-century type at its simplest 
and most modest we may examine the Emery house at Jaffrey, N. H. 
(Fig. 75), by H. A. Frost and C. W. Killam. This building, with its thin 
clapboards, its overhanging second story, its heavy proportions two stories 
and a half in height, its two-storied slope of the roof in the rear, and its 
heavy central chimney, is seventeenth-century Colonial, derived from a 
purely English source. It fits its setting perfectly.* As one enters the 
interior (Fig. 76) one is struck by simple walls, beamed ceilings with the 
timbers revealed, and the emphasis on structure rather than on decoration 


* An amusing fact is that the designers tried to produce a building in harmony with 
the architecture of the district and, not realising the comparatively late settlement of the 
central portions of New Hampshire, erected one really a hundred years too early for its site. 


a 


Phoidgrack by Tisai laa 


Fic. 75. Jarrrey, N. H. Emery House. 
Frost & Killam, Architects; Bremer W. Pond, Landscape Architect. 


Photograph by Thewas Ellison. 


Fic. 76. Jarrrey, N. H. Emery House. 
Frost & Killam, Architects; Bremer W. Pond, Landscape Architect. 


92 ‘ 


THE DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE _— 93 


which marks the style. The Colonial furniture adds the last touch neces- 
sary, although a comfortable veranda at the rear saves the building from 
the discomfort of a too strict archxology. 

As we turn from the seventeenth-century type to the eighteenth-cen- 
tury Georgian, such a wealth of material exists that we are overwhelmed 
by an embarras de richesse. Vhe northern Georgian, brick and limestone, 
or brick with wooden trim, blinds and portal painted white, is familiar to 
every eye and is one of the most charming products of American domes- 
tic architecture. Almost at random we reproduce one, the residence of 
Henry N. Furnald, Esq., at Fieldston, N. Y. (Fig. 77), by Dwight James 
Baum. It has the gambrel roof, the squared end with chimneys sunk in the 
wall, the restrained classic detail of Northern eighteenth-century work. It 
is, however, by no means archzological and in details, like the veranda and 
the portico (Fig. 78), asserts itself as a building which has assimilated a 
style rather than imitated it. As one approaches it one feels oneself in a 
late Colonial atmosphere without being able to accuse the designer of copy- 
ing a given Colonial detail. It is characteristic of modern architecture that 
the charming and entirely congruous-appearing terrace is over the garage. 

Although by no means Colonial, it may be pertinent to mention here 
the twentieth-century phase of that continuation of Colonial, the Early Re- 
publican style, and the success with which architects have adapted it to mod- 
ern needs. This style, as we have seen, paid more attention to comfort than 
the Colonial architecture, was generally on a more monumental scale, and 1s 
really better adapted to inspire modern work than is Colonial. Of the two, 
true Colonial is the more influential and this is rather difficult to under- 
stand. The most recent tendencies, however, are directing more and more 
attention to the lessons to be learned from Early Republican architecture. 

As a single example of this style in modern work, we might look at 
the house done for Mrs. R. M. Bissell, at Farmington, Conn. (Fig. 79), 
by Edwin S. Dodge. The plan, except, for its lack of curves, has all the 
quality of the Early Republican style. Communications are well studied, 
living-rooms comfortably arranged, the hall is monumental yet chaste in 
ornament, and everything is calculated to produce a feeling of privacy, 
ease, dignity, and restraint. In elevation, the severe Doric portico recalls 
the early nineteenth-century work. Above it a sunken panel with a motif 
Palladio might have been designed by Bulfinch and adds the one ornate 


‘jajiyiap “unvg sauvf jysing ‘papiyosp Sunog sauog qysimq 
‘bsy preuiny ‘NY Atudzy Jo s0uapisey *X *N ‘SNOLSGTAIY ‘gy ‘OT ‘bsy ‘preuing "NV Asuopy JO aouepisoy «A ‘N SNOLSATSIQ “22 *OTd 
“49ga/f *[ jnog Xq ydvs30104.q ; 


*42q2 4 -{ mod ag ydvasoioyq 


94 


sos SHE 


Photograph by Paul J. Ween. 
Fic. 79. FarmincTon, Conn. Bissell House. E. S. Dodge, Architect. 


Dice is Pail ow ees Pintecrask by Paul.) Weber, 


Fic. 80. Farmincton, Conn. Bissell House. Fic. 81. Farminctron, Conn. Bissell House. 
E. S. Dodge, Architect. E. S. Dodge, Architect. 


a5 


‘joagiyIap “TT Kanquy soumdkp 
*qn[d AtJUNO? SoUIg-PI] “DO ‘N “GOOMTIONY °ZQ ‘OL 
"440jQ yrauuay &q ydv4d0q04q 


* 


“spoaptyIapy “YNULG GQ aySutsgq ‘VuUspIsry ‘VH ‘VINVILY °EQ ‘Ol 


we 


¢ 


cope 


(ee a 


THE DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE 97 


note to relieve the severity of the three tiers of simple windows. Pro- 
portions are nicely adjusted and the whole flavour of the building is one 
of severity without coldness. The interiors (Figs. 80, 81), with their 
broad arches, simple panelling, and fine membering of the wall surfaces, 
ably second the impression made by the house as a whole. 

Turning to the Colonial-inspired buildings in the South, we find the 
style as well adapted to one locality as to the other. Indeed, the same 
architects often work in both districts, with little change of style, and pro- 
duce work that—geographically speaking—is entirely harmonious. In 
medern work, as in ancient, there is a tendency in the South to use less 
wood, but this merely follows tradition, and good architecture in wood, 
as well as more monumental materials, exists in both districts. 

As usual, examples of the type are legion, and we must limit our- 
selves to very few, with no implication that they are unique, nor even 
necessarily the best. Fine ones may be found in the Sand Hills of North 
Carolina, where Aymar Embury II * had the opportunity to create a new 
settlement and chose sensibly an adaptation of Georgian Colonial and Early 
Republican architecture as his medium. The detail we show of the Mid- 
Pines Country Club at Knollwood, N. C. (Fig. 82), is typical of this 
work, frankly admitting its debt to the past, yet adapting an older style 
to modern conditions and needs. The affinity between this and the North- 
ern work we have just reviewed is obvious, yet the tendency to ramble, 
the use of a two-storied portico, and the general airiness of the design give 
it a truly Southern character. Variety is got by the use of brick, stone, and 
wood in the same monument. 

Not to confine ourselves to the work of a single man or firm, we might 
glance at a house at Atlanta, Ga., by Pringle & Smith (Fig. 83), that 
preserves the ancient tradition of Southern architecture, gives the feeling 
of antiquity and, at the same time, is well adapted to modern needs. Es- 
pecially the great central two-storied portico, developing in the South in 
the late eighteenth century, is well handled, though the details of its slen- 
der supports are not repeats of any definite stylistic antecedent. 

In New York and the Hudson Valley, the many remains of Dutch 
Colonial building tempted the modern architect to interesting experiments, 


* The Architectural Record, June, 1924, R. F. Whitehead, “Some Work of Aymar Em- 
bury II.” 


98 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


and from New York the types have spread occasionally into New England 
and other districts. Dutch Colonial, whether seventeenth or eighteenth 
century, is more picturesque and less formal than English. For the rural 
dwelling, it had the advantage of a veranda, which was commonly cov- 
ered by the same roof which protected the rest of the a this roof 
taking an upward turn as it projected over the porch. 

Such an informal, cosey effect is got, again by Mr. Embury, in the house 
for Mrs. W. H. Fallon, at Sparkill, N. Y. (Fig. 84). Here the low pro- 
portions, the slim dormers, and above all, the eccentric tilt of the roof as 
it projects over the veranda, betray immediately a Dutch origin. Placed 
among the Dutch eighteenth-century buildings in such a town as Hurley, 
this modern building could never be out of place. 

A freer version of Dutch Colonial is the house done by Calvin Kiess- 
ling, for Mr. Benjamin P. Vanderhoof, at New Canaan, Conn. (Fig. 85). 
Here a two-storied portico, for which there is no precedent in Dutch Co- 
lonial and which is more reminiscent of English work, is used to give dig- 
nity and shelter to the facade. The tilted roof which covers it, however, 
the broad clapboarding, the shape of the chimneys and the general pro- 
portions, are characteristic of the Hudson Valley type. 

Esthetically related to these, though of a different historic origin, are 
the houses of Pennsylvania which betray the influences of the German 
and Scandinavian builders who first settled in that district. The analysis 
of these is not easy, however, as many houses which are based upon Eng- 
lish or French models still retain one characteristic feature that we asso- 
ciate with “Pennsylvania Dutch”: the happy use of purely local material. 
Of these we shall speak later. Some, however, show not only the use of 
local material, as cheap and sensible as it is zsthetically pleasing, but also 
forms which are more Teutonic than Anglican or French. This is true, 
for example, of the charming little house which we reproduce, by Carl A. 
Ziegler, on Cliveden Avenue, Germantown, Pa. (Fig. 86). Unlike “Clive- 
den,” this house makes no pretense to formality, but its dormers and the 
slope of the roof give it a truly Pennsylvania Dutch air. Another ex- 
ample, still freer, and combining suggestions both of English and “Penn- 
sylvania Dutch” prototypes, is Mrs. Meigs’ house at Ithan, Pa. (Fig. 87), 
naturally a product of the firm of Mellor, Meigs & Howe. The “Penn- 
sylvania Dutch” style has not been as influential as the English Georgian, 


Fic. 84. Sparxitt, N. Y. Residence of Mrs. W. H. Fallon.: Aymar Embury II, Architect 


Piotozeagh by Kenneth Clark: 
Fic. 85. New Canaan, Conn. Residence of B. P. Vanderhoof, Esq. Calvin Kiessling, Architect. 
99 


10 
sages ape RO 


Photogrash by P. B. Wollace. 


Fic. 86. Germantown, Pa. House on Cliveden Avenue. Carl A. Ziegler, Architect. 


Fic. 87. Irman, Pa. Residence of Mrs. J. F. Meigs. Mellor, Meigs & Howe, Architects. 
IOO 


fe DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE 1o1 


nor even the true New York Dutch, but its effects have been felt, and 
happily, in Pennsylvania. 

Indeed, Americans in general have been too apt to associate the word 
“Colonial” only with the Anglo-Georgian work. Grudgingly they ex- 
tend it to the Dutch and German styles of the Atlantic seaboard, reluc- 
tantly they are just beginning to realise that it applies as well to such work 
as the buildings of Louisiana, derived from a French Colonial type, and 
those of the Southwest which are as characteristically Colonial Spanish. 
Any one who has been in New Orleans, for example, has been impressed 
with the Gallic quality of the architecture there, as well as with its pro- 
priety as a Southern style. Most visitors are struck particularly with the 
detail, the grilles, the balconies of exquisite ironwork, wrought or cast, 
and overlook the French proportions, the long French windows, protected 
by awnings, the widely overhanging eaves, and other features which were 
partly imported by the French settlers and partly invented by them in the 
prosperous days of the eighteenth century. No local architect, nor even 
client, could neglect the appropriate suggestions of the local style, and its 
influence appears refreshingly in many a modern building of New Or- 
Sieams. 15 an example, we reproduce the residence of Mr. J. C. Lyons, 
at New Orleans (Fig. 88), done by Armstrong & Koch. It would be 
hard to find a building that fits more perfectly into its environment. It 
is dignified, sheltered, yet airy. One realises at once that it smacks of 
France and that it is adapted to the needs of the warm, moist climate of 
Louisiana. 

If we turn from this to the modern adaptations of Spanish Colonial, 
we shall find again an embarrassing wealth of material. As one would 
expect, the style grew up especially in Southern California, but it is found 
in New Mexico, Arizona, Texas, Florida, and elsewhere in regions his- 
torically and climatically appropriate. By historic chance, the Spaniards 
settled portions of the country with a climate not unlike their own. Their 
architecture, which they would of course have used anyway, happened to 
be entirely appropriate. It had, however, to be simplified. Means were 
not so lavish here as at home, and, above all, skilled craftsmen were almost 
non-existent. For labour, the Spanish depended largely upon Indians, 
and these could be taught only the simpler things of architecture. Con- 
struction became, therefore, heavier, ornament reduced, mouldings sim- 


: Photograph by Tebbs 8 Knell, Inc. 
Fic. 88. New Orteans, La. Residence of J. C. Lyons, Esq. Armstrong & Koch, Architects. 


TAS tna ae 


S 


phineaaet by F, W. Mae: 
Fic. 89. Pasapena, Catir. Residence of Herbert Coppell, Esq. Bertram G. Goodhue, Architect. 
102 


THE DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE 103 


plified, and the effect of the local adobe material often made itself felt. 
The result was a picturesque superficial crudity that has often been criti- 
cised when imitated in modern work, but which ill deserves the charge of 
affectation. As a source of inspiration for modest dwellings it is wholly 
admirable and even monumental works of large scale and power can be 
built up of units suggested by the Spanish Colonial. Nor must we forget 
that, when occasion warranted it, the Spaniards did construct buildings, 
especially churches, comparable to those that were designed at home, so 
material for a more sophisticated derivation from Spanish lies to hand in 
the Southwest. 

A perfect example of this is the house done for Herbert Coppell, Esq., 
at Pasadena, Calif. (Fig. 89), by the late Bertram Grosvenor Goodhue, as 
we have seen one of the first to realise the possibilities of American Span- 
ish. The same ideas which he embodied in the San Diego Exposition he 
applied to the domestic house. In the Coppell residence he has caught 
perfectly the Spanish tradition of simple masses contrasting with smaller 
fields of concentrated ornament. Scrupulously avoiding all parade of clas- 
sicism, he designed in broad walls, windows rectangular or arched, in square 
sections without enframement, and overhangs which cast broad shadows 
on the otherwise brilliantly illuminated walls. Upon the doorway, how- 
ever (Fig. 90), with its portal and superposed balcony and window, he 
lavished a wealth of brilliant Spanish ornament. As a result, his central 
motif has the jewel-like sparkle which is the most striking feature of the 
Spanish style. | 

For a simpler, we might almost say a more conventional, type, and yet 
one that is larger in scale and as characteristically Spanish, we reproduce 
“Dias Dorados,” done for Mr. Thomas H. Ince, by Roy S. Price, at Bev- 
erly Hills, Calif. (Fig. 91). Here, too, the walls are plain and brilliantly 
lighted, while deep eaves and occasional projecting timbers, similar to 
those which we have seen in the seventeenth-century Governor’s Palace 
at Santa Fé (Fig. 16), cast interesting shadows. These eaves announce 
the protection of the dwelling against the hot sun and, indeed, the thick- 
ness of the walls, which the most casual observer must sense at a glance, 
proclaims a cool and sheltered interior. 3 

Some of the smaller buildings are quite as interesting. The house of 
W. T. Jefferson, Esq., by Marston & Van Pelt, at Pasadena (Fig. 92), 


d 


soar ees a 


Photograph by F. W. Martin. LGN Pgs Bee Wee , 
Fic. 90. Pasapena, Carir. Residence of Herbert Coppell, Esq. Bertram G. Goodhue, Architect. 
104 


Fic. 91. Beverty Hiris, Carr. Dias Dorados. Roy Seldon Price, Architect. 


Fic. 92. Pasapena, Cauir. Residence of W. T. Jefferson, Esq. Marston & Van Pelt, Architects. 
105 


106 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


shows in a quieter way the conventions used by Goodhue. The doorway 
is typical baroque, though less elaborate than the other we have noted. 
The walls are plain, the windows few and simple, the cornice replaced by 
wooden eaves with a deep overhang, and the whole effect made as quiet, 
yet as typically Spanish, as possible. Again one feels that the house fits 
its environment perfectly. One more example must suffice, the little house 
done for Craig Heberton, Esq., at Santa Barbara (Fig. 93), by George 
Washington Smith. This architect has made quite a specialty of the sim- 
plest type of Spanish house. Far from deploring the broad methods of 
construction imposed by lack of technical skill upon the Spanish Colonial 
builders, he has recognised its value in giving interest, power, and sim- 
plicity to the work. Especially, he has studied and caught the agreeable 
texture and play of light which such a method of building brought. Leav-. 
ing out all sophisticated baroque ornament, he has simplified everything 
to the mth degree, and got his effects by masses, by walls as unbroken as 
comfort would permit, and by the play of shadows which the planting 
could afford. As we look at a photograph of the Heberton house we can- 
not but be charmed by the play of light over its surfaces, by its honesty, 
straightforwardness, and the delightful way in which it fits its landscape 
setting. 

When we examine the architecture of Florida we find much of the 
same type of work. Here, for obvious reasons, the Spanish style has had 
a tremendous vogue. The modern buildings run through all phases of 
Spanish, from baroque to comparative academic correctness, from elabo- 
ration and great scale to the simplest and most picturesque informal tiny 
dwellings. As an example of the more academic and monumental work, 
we may examine the great residence done for J. S. Phipps, Esq., at Palm 
Beach (Fig. 94), by Addison Mizner. Here we find no florid baroque 
ornament, yet a perfect Spanish flavour is maintained. The plan is U- 
shaped, with arcades on the ground floor and a loggia across the centre 
in the second story, making an effect at once airy and dignified. The 
living quarters, including library and swimming-pool, are on the ground 
floor. Above are the master’s and guests’ rooms, with communication got 
by the loggia in the centre. and corridors in the wings. The arcaded court 
is truly Spanish and almost monastic in expression. The essentials of good 
Spanish architecture of the most refined type are here combined with the 
comfort and logic of plan which the modern client demands. 


iciera th by oR W alter Collinge. 
Fic. 93. Santa BarBara, Cauir. Residence of Craig Heberton, Esq. 
George Washington Smith, Architect. 


107 


Addison Mizner, Architect 


Phipps, Esq. 


S 


Residence of J. 


FLA 


b 


Patm BEAcH 


Fic. 94 


. 


ishbaugh 


F 


A 
Fic 


y W. 


graph b 


Photo 


igner. 


, Des 


nk 


Fi 


Venetian Casino. Denman 


Fia. 


b 


CorAL GABLES 


95. 


108 


THE DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE tog 


The informal type is to be found throughout the peninsula, though 
especially on the east coast. One need not go beyond the well-known de- 
velopment at Coral Gables to find plenty of excellent examples. Coral 
Gables brings up the whole question of rural community planning which 
we cannot discuss here beyond merely applauding the attempt to plan 
many houses with relation one to another, and attain a real homogeneity 
without losing variety and picturesqueness.* The criticism of Coral Gables 
is that it is too exotic, yet there is something in the air of Florida which 
challenges exotic treatment. Here we need not discuss the propriety of 
creating artificially the effect of Venice or the Riviera; we need merely 
note the fact and admire the amazing skill with which it is done. The 
view of the Venetian Casino (Fig. 95), for example, with its Venetian 
gondola posts, its Italo-Spanish architecture, its tropical planting, and its 
picturesque lagoon, is a triumph in exotic design, and as long as people 
flock to Florida to escape the drab winters of the North they are bound 
to revel in the exotic and the picturesque. 

Turning to the modest type of domestic Spanish which here concerns 
us, we might select the residence of J. H. Humphrey, Esq. (Fig. 96), 
as typical. Here the workmanship is purposely made as crude as pos- 
sible and all classic ornament is omitted. The thickness of the walls is 
emphasised and the expression attained is very like that of the Indian- 
built Spanish of the Southwest. Indeed, one can trace the influence, if 
remote, of what has come to be called in the Southwest the pueblo style 
of architecture. Above all, the designers have made the most of the plant- 
ing, so that a riot of foliate form and colour envelops the dwelling. One 
might find the effect of such work cloying, if one lived with it year in 
and year out. To the jaded eye of the northerner, however, surfeited 
with gazing upon bare country landscapes, or slushy streets, the dwellings 
of Coral Gables seem like a fairy-land. | 

Thus far, we have discussed domestic architecture solely under the 
head of historic derivation. It is very hard, however, to do this consist- 
ently and some of the finest work cannot fit into any such classification at 
all. At times, as in the case of the house at Jaffrey, by Frost and Killam, 
the archxological effect is so frank and outspoken that an historic classifi- 


* The author is deeply indebted to Mr. Frank M. Button, landscape architect at Coral 
Gables, for information and photographs. 


Fic. 96. Corat Gases, Fra. House of J. H. Humphrey. 


Photograph by P. B. Wallace. 


Fic. 97. St. Martins, PHicapetpnta, Pa. House of N. M. Seabreeze, Esq. 
' Duhring, Okie & Ziegler, Architects. 


TIO . 


THE DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE 111 


cation works admirably. In other cases, as we have seen, the historic in- 
fluences are mixed, and the designer has learned from the solutions of the 
past without imitating any one. This is particularly true of the work of 
Georgian flavour. We reproduce a small house, done for Mr. N. M. Sea- 
breeze, at Philadelphia (Fig. 97), by H. L. Duhring. Compactly com- 
posed, built in brick, classic in detail which is sparingly used, it 1s more 
English Colonial than anything else, yet one hardly can call it Colonial. 
It is truly and at the same time unobtrusively modern. It represents care- 
ful study in proportion, in planning, and in surface textures, revolution- 
ary in nothing, satisfactory in everything, and, though we may congratu- 
late the designer on the excellence of this particular performance, the 
encouraging thing to note is that this example is by no means unique. We 
could probably find hundreds of similar ones in America by scores of 
architects which could illustrate our point as well. It must be confessed, 
however, that, as a group, the architects of Philadelphia have been par- 
ticularly successful in this problem of the carefully studied small house. 
Simplicity can be very dull, as well as admirable, and successful simplicity 
can be attained only by the most careful study. In the best examples, as 
here, the study disappears in the completed monument, leaving only its 
effect, and we have the pleasantest of all monuments, a seemingly un- 
studied one. 

Aside from the pseudo-Georgian type, we find thousands of examples 
of good domestic work in America, large or small, historic or no, which 
have little geographical reference in their styles. Gothic, for example, 
and especially Tudor Gothic, has been used with great success in Amer- 
ican country houses, though it can have no reference to any historic period 
in this country. Such work oftentimes annoys the foreign critic of Amer- 
ican architecture. The Englishman is apt to resent the incongruity of a 
Tudor -house in a country which has had no Tudor history. On the other 
hand, if the house be well designed and well placed, if the architecture 
be suited, as in the North, to the climate, there 1s no reason why the de- 
signer should not express himself in this vocabulary if he chooses. The 
fact that America was discovered in 1492 instead of a century or so earlier 
is a poor reason for allowing to America one style of architecture derived 
from England and not another. The obvious fallacy appears when we 
realise that once more the dispute narrows to a question of historic pro- 


*bsq € 


"yoautya4p Sadog pjassny uyof 


uzun HeNjs jo souapisay 


‘LW “LaodmMaN “66 


"OL 


*JII[LYIAP 


‘adog pjassny uyof 


‘bsqy ‘uvoung 3enj¢ jo a.uapisay «*] “Y ‘1wOdMaN 


86 


‘Oly 


II2 


Pere DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE 113 


priety, and modern architecture, though it may be swayed by such consid- 
erations, will not and should not be dominated by them. The real ques- 
tion in many cases is whether or not the treatment be too deliberately 
archzological, but this must be determined by individual opinion in indi- 
vidual instances. 

As an excellent example of the Tudor type, we may select the resi- 
dence of Stuart Duncan, Esq., at Newport, R. I. (Fig. 98), by John Rus- 
sell Pope. Here we get a straightforward acceptance of Tudor forms, 
frankly archeological, but repeating no known historic monument. The 
designer, feeling the exquisite charm of the original in England, has set 
himself to get the same effect in modern America, and has succeeded. 
His building is monumental as well as picturesque, his textures a delight 
to the eye. The interiors are frankly inspired by such buildings as Knole, 
Haddon, Lynhydroc, and a score of other English prototypes which we 
could mention, but they are beautiful and well suited to their purpose. If 
the long galleries of the Tudor houses were beautiful, there is no reason 
why a modern architect should not take them over, as in the view wwe show 
of Mr. Duncan’s house (Fig. 99), and adapt them to modern needs and 
conditions. [he worst that can be said of such archeological treatment 
is that it is unprogressive and does not lead to the development of some- 
thing new. On the other hand, the price is not too great to pay occasion- 
ally for a monument of great beauty, especially in a country where his- 
toric examples are not available. An archeological reliance on the past 
need not worry us if it be not universal in our architecture and if it be done 
with an understanding of the spirit of the ancient example. The latter 
is What we are getting in present-day American work as completely as we 
missed it a couple of generations ago. 

In the dwellings which make no pretense to following a local style 
geographically, the influence of local material is often most happily ap- 
parent. In New England, where good building stone is scarce, where the 
field stone is ill adapted to any but heavy effects and the abundant gran- 
ite is better suited for massive structures than modest ones, brick has come 
to be the favoured medium. The suggestions of brick Colonial are eagerly 
accepted and, as we have seen, brick is becoming almost the recognised 
local material. On the other hand, the prevalence of abundant good white 
pine encouraged the use of wood in Colonial times, and modern domestic 


114. THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


work has often followed in this. The comparative impermanence of wood 
is often urged against it, but the vast numbers of seventeenth and eigh- 
teenth century wooden buildings that exist in New England attest the fact 
that wood, properly cared for, is as permanent a medium as need be. Only 
the constant menace of fire makes it inferior in this respect to brick. 

Perhaps the most charming and successful examples we have of the 
tasteful use of local material occur in or near Philadelphia, where a group 
of brilliant designers have made a study of the use of the attractive local 
limestone. In most of these buildings they have made no attempt to ex- 
press a local style historically, and the character of the buildings is more 
often English or French than “Pennsylvania Dutch.” It muddies our 
conception of the work, however, to try and associate it with any historic 
style. It is straightforward building and honest design, with an eye to 
fine proportion, picturésque composition, and the use of the full possi- 
bilities of the material. That this is so abundant locally may be luck,* but 
the recognition of its possibilities is to the credit of the designers. Though 
some of the houses are on a monumental scale and some are very small, 
the vast majority are of moderate size, running in cost from twenty to 
forty or fifty thousand dollars. | 

When it comes to illustrating this work, it is embarrassing to have to 
choose among so many brilliant examples by such a number of able men. 
Almost at random, let us look at a typical example by Robert R. Mc- 
Goodwin (Fig. 100). It has all the charm of an old-world cottage, with- 
out the slightest pretense to being anything but what it is. It is quaint, 
delicious in the expression of the texture of its masonry, picturesque in 
silhouette, and yet one grasps immediately that it is well planned, up to 
date in its appointments, and entirely suited to the needs of a modern 
owner. Even on the exterior, one senses the light and roominess of the 
wing nearest the observer, while one admires the relation of this wing to 
the rest of the building. Indeed, here the designer has caught the charm 
of Compton Wynyates, without imitating any of its details. 

A view of another building by this architect. (Fig. 101) will fortify 
this impression. Here the masonry is rougher, more binding is used, and 


* Mr. C. C. Zantzinger, of Zantzinger, Borie & Medary, recently built a parish house 
in Chestnut Hill, using only the stone which he obtained in excavating the site of the 
building. 


Photograph by P. B. Wallace. 
Fic. 100. Cuestnut Hitt, Pa. House for Staunton B. Peck, Esq. Robert R. McGoodwin, Architect. 


Sone ontge 3 a 


Pisrtash PR; B. allace. 
Fic. 101. Cuestnut Hiri, Pa. Residence of Persifor Frazier, 3d, Esq. 
Robert R. McGoodwin, Architect. 


115 


116 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


the architects vary their methods in this respect. At times they attain the 
maximum of cheapness in the handling of the stone without abating one 
whit the charm of texture. Here again we have picturesqueness, charm- 
ing composition, and the suggestion of solid modern comfort. The glimpse 
of the motor beyond the doorway, at the end of the drive, is in no sense 
incongruous. The designers have attacked the problem in the most praise- 
worthy way and, by making the most of local stone and modern demands, 
have attained the success that such an attack can always make in any age 
or style. Similarly in the house for Mr. J. M. Reynolds, at St. Martins, 
Philadelphia (Fig. 102), by H. L. Duhring, one senses the domesticity, 
the privacy, the aristocratic economy of means that proudly avoids self- 
advertisement and as discreetly glorifies the taste of designer and tenant. 

In these cases, the effects are generally English. The same general 
effect is obtained in the “French Village,” as it has come to be called, 
designed by Robert R. McGoodwin (Fig. 103), and forming a part of 
the attractive development that is making Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia, 
one of the most distinguished districts architecturally in the United States. 
These buildings, however, with their exaggeratedly pitched roofs, their 
turrets and their lofty chimneys, are just a trifle theatrical and perhaps 
not quite so admirable as the simpler type. All have, however, the same 
taste in material and are interesting variants of the local design. The 
same may be said of the delightful set of farm buildings, designed for 
Mr. Arthur E. Newbold, Jr. (Figs. 104, 105), by Mellor, Meigs & 
Howe.* Here the designers worked with a deliberate theory in mind. 
They believed that the charm of the European farm group came from 
the presence of the animals as well as the human occupants, and the ex- 
pression of functions of the buildings as a farm unconsciously expressed, 
but none the less felt. Mr. Newbold’s house was designed to attain this — 
expression. The effort had to be conscious, however, and partly on that 
account, partly on account of the use of sagging roof lines and similar de- 
tails to give an impression of age, it borders on the theatrical. The group 
is, none the less, one of the most interesting and attractive in modern 
American rural work. 

The temptation to multiply examples of this work is almost irresis- 
tible. We reproduce, for example, a house by Gilchrist (Fig. 106). Pur- 


* A. J. Meigs, Az American Country House, New York, 1925. 


Fic. 102. Sr. Martins, PHILADELPHIA, Pa. 


House for J. M. Reynolds, Esq. H. Louis Duhring, Architect. 


Fic. 103. Cuesrnut Hitt, Pa. The “French Village.’’ Robert R. McGoodwin, Architect. 
117 


“SIIAILYIAP 


< 


aMoyy & ss1apy 


‘ 


40719 


“oINnjsed 94} WOd} WIP POG MIN 


‘Vd 


« 


MOOWIAV'] 


vor 


‘O14 


*7ID]]D MM 


d 


d 4 y¢vss0joyg 


fee WOVE SLIC AND ACADEMIC. ARCHITECTURE (119 


posely we have selected one built of the cheapest possible masonry con- 
struction, yet as straightforward and as full of charm as any in the group. 
Looking at a number of these houses juxtaposed, as in the group we re- 
produce by H. Louis Duhring (Fig. 107), we see what an admirable har- 
mony the consistent and tasteful use of this material gives to an ensemble. 
When we realise that a large area of Chestnut Hill is covered with build- 
ings of this type we see that the Philadelphia designers have solved one 
of the most important problems of American architecture. One can hardly 
give them too much credit for their work in this line. Given a thirty- 
thousand-dollar commission, they have expended on it the study that would 
normally go with a structure costing three times that amount. Best of 
all, this study is sensed rather than advertised. The result is a consid- 
erable number of buildings, of the utmost variety, yet telling as entirely 
homogeneous in the district, as fine as can be found in the modern archi- 
tecture of America, and one is tempted to say of Europe as well. In 
this particular line the architecture of Philadelphia is unique. 

_ This does not imply, however, that good, original domestic work is 
not being done elsewhere. We have seen the use of stucco and of native 
adobe in the South and Southwest. In the Rocky Mountain States most 
interesting work is being done, using local stone and bringing the build- 
ings into harmony with the landscape in which they are placed. It is fair 
to say, however, that in the small suburban home, most carefully studied 
in a pleasing local material, Philadelphia has led the way. 

There is yet another type of rural and suburban dwelling that 1s 1n- 
teresting and has attracted especial attention abroad. A review of it leads 
us anew to a consideration of the zsthetic ideas of Louis Sullivan and 
Frank Lloyd Wright. As we have seen, these men and their follow- 
ers have stood for an architectural revolution. The philosophy of this 
group is, for the layman at least, somewhat obscure. It isa new move- 
ment and would probably be willing to admit itself still in an early evo- 
lutionary stage. In such a stage, however, it is doubly hard to define and 
its adherents would as probably resent the attempt to define it. One thing 
is certain: it stands for something new. It is the spokesman of “mod- 
ernism” in the United States. Its practitioners have a horror of the use 
of archxological or, as they would put it, “stolen” forms. They feel that 
modern problems, modern materials, American conditions, demand a mod- 


‘198NYI4p “451447115 


ro adi lee af § 


‘IsNOHFY “Vg “TIIF{ LANLSIHD “ONT ‘Ol 


“920110 44 ° 


d 


"saapiy24p SOmOTT G) sayy “soya 


*JINODZIO WOY IOMOT “WIRY PloqMeN ‘Vg SMOOUTAVY “COT “Ol 


"290110 f 


. 


I 


. 


d &q y¢ois0joyg 


120 


Photograph by P. B. Wallace. 


Fic. 107. Sr. Marrins, PHitapetpuia, Pa. Group for Doctor George Woodward. 
FH. Louis Duhring, Architect. 


Fic. 108. SprincGreEen, WIs. 
House of Frank Lloyd Wright, Architect. 


I2I 


122 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


ern and an American architecture, and that the designer who attempts to 
use classic or Gothic forms, or even the suggestions of these, is playing 
false to the art of architecture. At best, he can be but a clever plagiarist; 
at worst, his work is but meaningless muttering in a dead tongue. 

The credo of the group is to meet modern conditions as they exist in 
an honest and a modern way. Its members do not quarrel with modern 
conditions, nor materials. They accept steel and concrete, or the lavish 
use of the machine in the production of ornament. The machine to them 
is a tool, like any other tool, but a modern one and therefore presumably 
a legitimate and an admirable one, which must be made to serve in the 
creation of a great modern architecture. The forms which it is made to 
create, however, must be “clean,” and not mechanical repetitions of some- 
thing that was done long ago for a different purpose. To evolve these 
forms, the honest designer must study nature and, at the same time, use 
his imagination. Given a clean form, virile pattern will creep in and the 
designer will attain a harmonious expression of the third dimension, the 
most important verity in architecture. 

So much for the philosophy, as well as one can understand it. We, 
however, are interested primarily in its results. It has created an archi- 
tecture undoubtedly new, certainly interesting, intriguing in its possibili- 
ties, and beautiful or no, according to the opinion of the observer. It 1s 
an architecture of large masses, of rectangularity, of generally horizontal 
emphasis. Its forms are kept as simple as possible, apparently to drive 
home upon the observer the character of the forms themselves. It is an 
architecture which of course scrupulously avoids any similarity with past 
styles and we venture to suggest may be hampered by a morbid fear of 
the dangers of being identified in any way with the art of the past. It 1s 
a style of undeniable virility, bought at the price, some will maintain, of 
brutality. It is a colourful style, though here again, many observers would 
consider the colour harsh. It makes a point of the original and func- 
tional use of materials, and keeps an eye to the colour possibilities of each 
material as used. | 

Later we shall have something to say of it, as applied to buildings 
on a monumental scale. At present we are concerned only with its ex- 
pression in the rural and suburban dwelling. It can be very well illus- 
trated here, however, as its greatest living protagonist, Frank Lloyd 


THE DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE 123 


Wright, has done a great deal of work in this field. Asa younger member 
of the firm of the late Louis Sullivan, the design of a number of domes- 
tic works was placed upon him, while Mr. Sullivan was concerned pri- 
marily with buildings upon a larger scale. Though Mr. Wright has, of 
course, done many monumental buildings, it is only reasonable to expect 
his style to be revealed clearly in the domestic house. 

For the first example, let us look again at Mrs. Coonley’s House, at 
Riverside, Ill. (Fig. 71). It is entirely different from anything we have 
hitherto examined. Built up in great block-like forms, it tells as a series 
of masses, horizontals, and rectangular openings harmoniously and skil- 
fully adjusted to the design. The eaves project widely, as in the His- 
pano-American work in the Southwest, and indeed the two styles have 
much in common, although they arrived at a certain affinity of expres- 
sion along entirely different paths. The philosophy of the designer shows 
clearly in the work, and yet it looks anything but revolutionary. 

The interior probably will not appeal as quickly. When we examine 
the little playhouse (Fig. 72) at Mrs. Coonley’s, we shall be interested 
surely, but not so charmed. We feel the same conscientious adherence 
to the tenets of the style, but the result is harsh. The lighting is inter- 
esting, the relation of rectangles—vertical and horizontal—immediately 
felt, but the ruggedness of the brick, the angularity of the furniture, and 
the heavy projection of sharp-cornered masses of masonry, all have a ten- 
dency to repel. Many of us, at least, might like to look at a room of this 
sort, but dislike to live in it. 

A really extreme example of the style is Mr. Wright’s own house at 
Springgreen, Wis. (Fig. 108). Here he has designed with the most de- 
liberate severity and used masonry cut and joined in the ruggedest possible 
way. As usual, the masses are kept low and the projections, especially of 
the roof, wide-flung. Not a curve is allowed to break the impression of 
angle and rectangle in the main mass. Force there certainly is in this de- 
sign, grace not at all. Whether it be beautiful or ugly, we leave to the 
individual observer and to posterity. Interesting it certainly 1s. 

The style is spreading rapidly. Its home is in Illinois and Wiscon- 
sin, where so many progressive ideas arise to plague us. Its adherents, 
however, are carrying it afield and, in some cases, sugaring it down in a 
way which probably ill pleases its founders and sincere protagonists. ‘That 


124 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


it deserves watching, none will deny, and of all phases of modern Ameri- 
can architecture, it has probably attracted the most attention abroad. 

Returning to a more conservative type of design, although the pur- 
pose of our study is architecture and not landscape architecture, no dis- 
cussion of the American architecture of to-day could be balanced without 
some mention of the formal estate and the combination of architecture 
and landscape architecture in an harmonious whole. Sometimes the archi- 
tects have done their own landscape work. More often, an architect and 
a landscape architect have collaborated. The work runs from the most 
magniloquent and overpowering formal designs to the modest and seem- 
ingly unstudied arrangement of a simple garden. In such work, two dis- 
tinct and in general opposing tendencies appear. One is the attempt to 
make something typically American, with direct reference to the char- 
acter of American landscape. The other involves the study of classic 
examples and the attempt to reproduce similar designs in this country. 
As usual, however, these tendencies are by no means clearly marked. Often- 
times a classic prototype will be studied and then adapted to American 
conditions. At other times, the honest attempt to make a truly American 
garden design will unconsciously arrive at an expression very like that of 
an Old World one. 

Here, again, we must not let theory run away with appreciation, but 
must approach the matter in a common-sense spirit. Nearly any one would 
agree that it is absurd to remove, let us say, an entirely formal Italian 
design from its setting and place it in an incongruous setting in a new 
country. Expressed in those terms, the absurdity is manifest, but often 
those terms do not honestly express the facts. Let us, for example, con- 
sider the setting of a formal Italian landscape composition. Unless one 
is familiar with the originals, one thinks of these as placed in a well-kept, 
trim landscape with the formality of the design only refining the general 
expression of the ancient country in which it occurs. The truth of the 
matter is that so famous an example as the Villa Lante at Bagnaia is 
placed in a rocky, uncultivated, almost forbidding landscape. Though 
the vegetation is different, the contours and lines of the landscape of cen- 
tral Italy are often surprisingly like those of northern New England. 
The Villa Lante is an artificial, cultivated oasis, its boundaries sharply 
defined and dividing it deliberately from the rugged landscape about. We 


toe DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE 125 


hold no brief for the importation of Villa Lantes into New England. 
We may even sympathise with the theory that the best design is that 
which brings the house and garden into relation with. the more distant 
landscape about it. We should be able to take the point of view of the 
designer, however, who, seeing the classic example and admiring it, tries 
to do something of the same sort in his own land. At any rate, we are 
wholly inconsistent 1f we admire the one thing in Italy and object to the 
same thing in America. The man who admires our formal Colonial and 
Early Republican architecture, with its derivation from Georgian Eng- 
land, from Inigo Jones, and thence back to purest Palladian work and, at 
the same time, objects to Italian villa architecture on the ground that it is 
Italian, fine at home, but unsuited to America, is blowing hot and cold 
with the same breath. If Palladio is fine and suited to America, surely 
Vignola is. In this, as in all things, we should not deal in universals but 
use our eyes, our taste, and our judgment in individual cases. 

In general, American garden design falls into three classes, based re- 
spectively on the English, the French, and the Italian types. The Eng- 
lish is least formal and best suited to residences of small scale, though it 
can, of course, be used with large. The French is best suited for the enor- 
mous and rigidly formal estates of those whose means permit an almost 
unlimited outlay. The Italian expression lies somewhere between the two, 
though nearer the French than the English. All, however, are subject 
to local modification and comparatively few are pure English, pure French, 
or pure Italian. 

For the most informal type, we might select the house and garden of 
Mr. and Mrs. Louis E. Shipman, at Plainfield, N. H. (Fig. 109). Mrs. 
Shipman, a landscape architect of national reputation, has designed, for 
a modified but still rural wooden New Hampshire house, a garden that 
in its charm, seclusion, and informality, harmonises entirely with the dwell- 
ing. Whether one looks at the house from the garden, the service wing 
from the garden (Fig. 110), or the garden from the house, everything 
has the air of privacy and of almost haphazard informality which conceals 
the exquisite artistry that produced it. If we were forced to classify this 
according to the types we have outlined, we should call it English, but we 
should prefer to coin a name and call it “New English.” It is the perfect 
expression of the New England country garden and only one, though an 


ie 


Photograph by Ma 


ttie E. Hewitt. 


Fic. 109. Prainrietp,N.H. Breed Farm. Ellen Shipman, Architect and Landscape Architect. 


Photograph by Mattie E. Hewitt. 


Fic. 110. Puatnrietp, N.H. Breed Farm. Ellen Shipman, Architect and Landscape Architect. 
126 


Courtesy of the efialon Aerial Photo 


Fic. 111. Gren Cove, L. I. Estate of J. E. Aldred, Esq. Air View. 
Bertram G. Goodhue, Architect ; Olmsted Brothers, Landscape Archi 


a 


Courtesy the Aiglon Aerial Photos. 
Fic. 112. Locust Vautiey, L. 1. Estate of Byrford Ryan, Esq. Air View. 


127 


"pauiyr4p advospuvy] “ypu nog !psapiyI4p “40UU0D Oy Sauivf, “MIA TI “bsy SuvUIDYySg “YT joes” “A 'N ‘ATTIAIIVYT “ETT “OW 
*SO10Y Jv14ap uojsip 2y1 fo ksasn07) 


THE DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE 129 


unusually brilliant, example of thousands that occur in New England and 
elsewhere in the United States. The principles here involved can be ap- 
plied all over the country, in the South, in the West, in the Southwest, 
producing different effects according to the vegetation and climate, but 
retaining the same charm, simplicity, and honesty. Such work is truly 
American. 

It can be, of necessity, applied only to the small, informal dwelling. 
The principles of English garden design can, however, be applied to most 
monumental works. Let us look, for example, at an aeroplane photo- 
graph of the estate of J. E. Aldred, Esq. (Fig. 111), the architecture by 
the late B. G. Goodhue, the landscape design by the Olmsted Brothers. 
Here the scale is large, but the general effect informal. Not that all is 
not carefully planned, but a careful asymmetry is preserved. In this the 
gardens reflect the plan of the house. They are shut off one from an- 
other, hemmed by heavy planting, and are arranged to give unexpected 
vistas and allow the rambler frequently to come upon unexpected cosey 
nooks. 

Somewhere between the complete informality of Breed Farm and the 
large scale, but typically English, work of the Aldred estate, is the resi- 
dence and garden of Mr. Byrford Ryan, at Locust Valley, L. I. (Fig. 
112). This shows a modest but roomy country dwelling, with one sym- 
metrical garden attached, quietly done and generally English in charac- 
ter, though truly more American than English. For the complete Eng- 
lish plan, with all its asymmetry, privacy, and yet bigness of conception, 
we might look at the estate of L. F. Sherman, Esq., at Lakeville, L. L., 
the architecture being done by James W. O’Connor, the landscape work 
by Paul Smith (Fig. 113). Here there are walls, sunny and vine-grown, 
enclosing delightful flower-gardens. A broad lawn leads to steps and a 
terrace with a water-table. Right and left are more walled gardens, some 
concealed by hedges. Such a design fulfils the best English ideal in elimi- 
nating the sharp division between house and garden. One feels that the 
owner lives as much in the garden as in the house and has almost as much 
privacy there. The garden is not a mere setting for the house, to be en- 
joyed by the public and passers-by while the owner conceals himself within. 
The garden, like the house, is for the owner. The effect is happily un- 
democratic. 


130 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


For the French type, at its most formal and monumental, we could 
find no finer example than the estate of E. T. Stotesbury, Esq., at Chest- 
nut Hill (Figs. 114, 115). The architect was Horace Trumbauer, the 
landscape architect a Frenchman, Gréber. The mansion is in the style 
of Louis XV and the landscape design is in perfect harmony with it. From 
the lodge gates the main axis sweeps away, down a decline and up again, 
for a mile and more, past formal terrace, fountain, and lawn until it leads 
to the centre of the facade of the house. ‘The view from a distance is 
stunning in its scale; from above one feels a sense of the severést order. 
As one nears the house, the spaciousness and sunniness of the open par- 
terres seem even more accented, along with the perfectly appointed for- 
mality of every detail. Such a palatial scheme, and we are speaking now 
of a palace, not a dwelling nor even a mansion, is comparable to the great- 
est feats of landscape architecture in the Old World. Smaller in scale than 
Versailles, it is at least comfortably comparable to Vaux-le-Vicomte. It 
requires, of course, practically unlimited means to support. It may be chal- 
lenged as un-American and archeological in its reliance on a pure French 
type. It is, however, one, and by no means the only one, of the many 
such great estates that have been constructed in America. Whether they 
are ephemeral need not concern us, though it is interesting to note that 
fewer are being designed than were done ten or twenty years ago. The 
responsibilities of such an establishment and especially the difficulty in 
America of recruiting the necessary army of competent servants to run it, 
make even the very wealthy hesitate to build on such a scale. 

The photographic material which best illustrates such work brings up 
another interesting point in modern American architecture. We repro- 
duce an aeroplane photograph of the estate of Walter E. Maynard, Esq., 
at Jericho, L. I. (Fig. 116). We seem almost to be looking at the archi- 
tect’s and landscape architect’s final sketch for the work. All is laid out be- 
neath our eyes in map-like form. We immediately grasp every axis, major 
and minor, every relation of part to part. It is a commonplace to say that 
the architect thinks in terms of a plan, the layman in terms of an elevation. 
In general, this is true. In a series of sketches, .let us say for an architec- 
tural competition, a good-architect will spend most of his time studying 
the plan to see if it be orderly and sensible. The layman will spend his 
time looking at the elevation to decide if it be pretty. The photograph — 


ee: 


.Fic. 114. Cuestnut Hitt, Pa. Estate of E. T. Stotesbury, Esq. Plan by F. Greber. 


Bodrticy of B. W. Posen 
Fic. 115. Cuestnut Hitt, Pa. Estate of E. T. Stotesbury, Esq. 
Horace Trumbauer, Architect ; F. Greber, Landscape Architect. 


gh 


| 
i 
| 


Courtesy of the Aiglon Aerial Phetos. 


Fic. 116. Jertcuo, L. I.,N. Y. Estate of Walter E. Maynard, Esq. Air View. 
¥. Greber, Landscape Architect. 


132 


THE DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE = 133 


from the air, however, forces the layman to see the plan. Without con- 
scious effort, he takes the architect’s point of view; indeed, he would have 
to make a conscious effort not to. 

It is fascinating to toy with the possibilities of this idea. The archi- 
tect’s design should look well from the air. Otherwise it is ill-planned. 
The layman should be able to enjoy the view from above, otherwise the 
design is not reasonably legible. Even the architect, however, accustomed 
as he is to planning and the third dimension, probably was not wholly 
prepared for the impertinent peeping from above which the aeroplane al- 
lows. He probably did not design every detail of the roof, as seen from 
directly above, with the care which he would have devoted to the eleva- 
tion and the surrounding garden. On the other hand, the aeroplane view 
is already usual and in a very short time will be a commonplace. Already 
the aeroplane has given the student of architecture his very best instru- 
‘ment for studying an architectural ensemble. Certainly before long traffic 
by air will be general. In other words, the alert architect must now begin 
to think of paying as much attention to the beauty of his design from above 
as from any side. This places something of an added burden upon him, 
but he gets as his reward a magnificent opportunity to reveal his plan in 
a completed work, a phase of his design which to date is always lost, par- 
tially at least, when the completed building is viewed by a layman. 

How beautifully the aerial camera reveals an elaborate estate may be 
judged by a view of the estate of Otto Kahn, Esq., at Syosset, L. I. (Fig. 
117), by Delano & Aldrich, with landscape architecture by Olmsted Broth- 
ers. Here, again, we are dealing with an absolutely formal French design. 
The architecture, reminiscent of the style of Jean Bullant, is echoed in the 
typically French setting of the garden. The camera reveals the design as 
though we saw the plan, yet by taking the photograph at an angle, upon 
approaching the estate, the eye grasps something of the beauty of the vista 
as well. : 

A photograph of another work by the same architects and landscape 
architects, the estate of Harry Payne Whitney, Esq., at Wheatley Hills, 
L. I. (Fig. 118), reveals the indiscretions of the aerial camera. The type 
here is Italian, rather than French. The garden from above, however, 
appears confused, despite its symmetrical layout. The horseshoe curves, 
concentrically repeated, are monotonous from above, and the rustic water- 
chain and fall seems crowded by planting. Still worse, the house, with 


a gt aes om eee we 


Courtesy of the Aiglon Aerial Photos. 


Fic. 117. Syosset, L. I. Estate of Otto Kahn, Esq. Air View. 
Delano & Aldrich, Architects ; Olmsted Brothers, Landscape Architects. 


Courtesy of the Aiglon Aerial Photos 


Fic. 118. Wueatey Hitzs, L. I. Estate of Harry Payne Whitney, Esq. Air View. 
Delano & Aldrich, Architects ; Leavitt and Olmsted, Landscape Architects. 


134 


THE DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE 135 


its delicate detail and wholly delightful sozif Palladio as seen from the 
approach on the ground, from above appears as an ugly and haphazard 
roof. We are not blaming the architects. They were designing for men, 
not birds, but we merely note that the architect of to-day should, and the 
architect of to-morrow must, design for both. 

Whether or not we approve of the Italian formal garden in America, 
like the French, we find many beautiful and successful examples of it. 
Oftentimes, too, the American garden is inspired by the Italian prototype 
- rather than seeking to imitate it. If we look, for example, at the formal 
garden done by Charles A. Platt, at Maxwell Court (Fig. 119), we can- 
not but be delighted by its beauty and we should be captious indeed if 
we criticised it as archeological or in any way out of place in America. 
The same is true of another characteristic “Italian Garden’? done for the 
estate of Mr. Walker, at Great Barrington, Mass. (Fig. 120), by Feruc- 
cio Vitale. Such order, such colour, such a play of light and shadow would 
be gracious and grateful in any land or period. 

A rather special type of formal estate has been evolved by the con- 
ditions of Florida and California. As we have seen, the prevailing archi- 
tectural styles in these districts has properly been Spanish. Both the climate 
and the inspiration of a florid style have inspired designers to work along 
baroque lines, until designs have been created that, on account of exuber- 
ance, would be condemned as vulgar in any other clime, yet which in their 
setting seem reasonable and apt. As a single instance, we may look at 
some of the views of Vizcaya, done by Chalfin and Hoffman for the late 
Mr. Deering, of Chicago. Here the architects, supplied with lavish means, 
have taken full advantage of a picturesque shore and a hot Southern sun 
(Fig. 121). Working in a combination of Spanish and Italian baroque, 
thinking in terms of such a monument as the Villa at Isola Bella in Lake 
Como, they have created a fairy-land of free fancy and a monumental 
design. The house, or Villa Palace—for it is no less—shows considerable 
restraint of ornament, while it towers up in a monumental way. In the 
garden and the lagoons, however, fancy has been given free rein. We 
see a baroque water-chain (Fig. 122), not unlike that of the Villa Lante 
at Bagnaia, but doubled, which carries water in a series of pools and plashes 
from one level to another. The lagoon, almost hemmed in by piers, is 
picturesque with statuary, bridges, rough masonry, and mooring-piles in 


Fic. 119. Rockvitte, Conn. Maxwell Court. Charles A. Platt, Architect. 


Courtesy of B. W. Pond. 


Fic. 120. Great Barrincton, Mass. Estate of Mr. Walker. Ferruccio V. 


136 


tale, Landscape Architect. 


Platseath by M ae shed ith: 
Fic. 121. Miami, Fra. “Vizcaya,” Villa of the late James Deering. East Facade. 
F.. Burrall Hoffman and Paul Chalfin, Architects. 


Photograph by Mattie E. Hewitt. 


Fic. 122. Murami, Fra. “Vizcaya,” Villa of the late James Deering. South Cascade and Obelisk. 
F. Burrall Hoffman and Paul Chalfin, Architects. 


137 


138 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


the Venetian manner. An island is transformed into a baroque ship (Figs. 
123, 124), with squirming dolphins, winged genie, and beasts’? heads 
sprawling in picturesque abandon. On its prow it bears a latticed tea- 
house. A gesture more florid, a design more theatrical, could hardly be 
imagined, and there have not lacked tongues to attack it on the ground of 
ostentatious vulgarity. Each has a right to his own opinion, and one can 
see the reasons for criticism here. On the other hand, let him who criti- 
cised Vizcaya be very careful to extend his attacks to the Villa d’Este at 
Tivoli. That famous work, with its hundred fountains, its water-tables, 
its water-organ blaring one continuous chord, its miniature city of Rome, 
its balustrade with water running along the surface that guests might 
dabble their hands as they descended the stairs, even its concealed jets 
which played their streams up under the skirts of lady guests, when a 
waggish host set the mechanism and they stepped on a certain flag, was a 
nightmare of crass vulgarity compared to anything which modern Amer- 
ica has produced. If we condemn one, we must condemn the other. On 
the other hand, if we admire the Italian parent, we should not. withhold 
admiration for its more refined child in Florida. 

In all this discussion, we have been dealing with country or suburban 
houses, or, at least, with those that had enough ground around them to 
make them in some fair measure independent of their neighbours. Even 
in such a case, however, it is better to have some unity of design and ma- 
terial in architecture of a given district. We have seen how the architects 
of Chestnut Hill have attained a most praiseworthy unity in their design, 
so that each house is not only a thing of beauty in itself, but assists in the 
appreciation of the beauty of its neighbours. Note, too, that this has been 
attained by a number of men, working independently, and uncoerced by 
any zoning restriction or ukase from a single authority to force them to 
do as they did. No 3 2 

If such an eye to the ensemble is desirable in the isolated suburban 
houses, how much more desirable should it be in city houses juxtaposed 
so that facade touches facade and we see only the fronts of the dwellings. 
This is the case whenever land values are exaggeratedly high and certain 
restricted areas have an exaggerated social desirability. The phenomenon 
can be observed in any large city, but for examples in a brief review we 
may confine ourselves to the city of New York, where more of this type 
of building is found than in any other city of the Union. 


Ley 
Fic, 123. Mrami, Fira. “Vizcaya,” Villa of the late James Deering. The Island. 
F’. Burrall Hoffman and Paul Chalfin, Architects. 


Photograph by Mattie E. 


Photograph by Mattie E. Hewitt. 


Fic. 124. Mrami,Fia. “Vizcaya,” Villa of the late James Deering. Boat-House and Island Tea-House. 
Figure Sculpture by A. Stirling Calder; F. Burrall Hoffman and Paul Chalfin, Architects. 


139 


140 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


Two tendencies immediately reveal themselves; a vast improvement 
in the design of the houses as individuals, and a positive retrogression as 
far as attention to the ensemble is concerned. Many of the houses are 
palatial. Indeed, the majority of the houses of upper Fifth Avenue are, 
properly speaking, palazzi. Had they been done in the Renaissance, they 
would have been so called, and many are far more elaborate, larger in 
scale, and more costly than the Palazzo Riccardi or the Palazzo Rucellai. 
Only the lingering democratic terminology of America continues to call 
them houses. 

Be it noted at the outset that the owners of these houses are generally 
people not only of wealth but of taste and refinement. Magnificence they 
may desire, but never vulgarity or the extremes of ostentation. They 
employ the best talent, and all possible care and taste is used in the de- 
sign of the structure. Radicalism, however, is repellent to them, so that 
the designs are conservative and often archzxological. As individuals, the 
buildings, or their fronts—for we see nothing else—are often of exquisite 
beauty. Thanks to the rapid growth of cities and the changing fashions 
in sites, such buildings are apt to be ephemeral, and when one sees, as at 
the moment of writing, a house like R. M. Hunt’s residence for Mr. Van- 
derbilt, on Fifth Avenue, being torn down to make way for a commercial 
building, one’s heart is apt to bleed at the demolishment of exquisite 
mouldings, refined and beautiful carving, and the destruction of the child 
of an exquisite brain and hand. The beauty of the individual is undeniable. 

The ensemble of a single block of houses, however, is apt to be atrocious. 
In the old New York of the author’s childhood we were afflicted with the 
brown-stone front. Block after block of houses, built of that least happy 
and most friable of materials—brown sandstone—assaulted the eye with its 
cheerless monotony. Nevertheless, there was real unity and dignity in 
the ensemble. Then taste changed. Persons of a cheerier and more opti- 
mistic temperament began to modify their houses or rebuild, using the 
more convenient basement entrance and for materials brick or Bedford 
stone, or a combination of the two. Such houses appeared as slices of 
meat in the brown bread of the older type. They became popular and 
multiplied, but the daring which caused the first break encouraged indi- 
vidualism. Each built for himself what pleased him best, with no desire 
for harmony with his neighbours. This tendency has increased almost 
without a break till to-day, and the result is chaos. 


THE DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE tai 


When the building is large enough to cover the narrow end of a city 
block the disaster is largely avoided. Sometimes one architect has been 
employed to do a number of houses with reference one to another, and 
here again unity is preserved. A conspicuous example of this is the Vil- 
lard group (Fig. 125), on Madison Avenue and soth to 5rst Streets, 
built many years ago by McKim, Mead & White. For an example of 
the self-sufficient single type, large enough in scale to avoid the chief 
difficulty, we might cite the palatial, yet exquisitely refined, building on 
upper Fifth Avenue, done by Thomas Hastings for the late Henry Clay 
Frick, Esq. Even here, however, without blaming artist or client, one 
deplores the lack of relation between this fine work and the houses on 
either side of the narrow streets which bound it. 

It is when we come to the important and costly house which still does 
not occupy the whole of the narrow side of a city block that the defect 
becomes glaring. We reproduce a view of the beautiful residence, done 
by Delano & Aldrich, for Harold I. Pratt, Esq. (Fig. 126), on Park Ave- 
nue and 68th Street. Chaste in detail, pleasant in proportion, magnificent 
yet unostentatious, it is a delight in itself, but one cannot look at it with- 
out being conscious of the buildings at right and left. Concerning these, 
we have nothing to criticise but their lack of relation one to another and 
to the Pratt house. At the immediate right is a gap which quite probably 
will be filled by a well-designed structure which will have nothing in com- 
mon with its large neighbour, nor with its small. 

Let us look at a kodak snap-shot taken of Fifth Avenue opposite the 
Metropolitan Museum (Fig. 127). The eye immediately notes several 
beautifully and restrainedly designed buildings, juxtaposed and reflect- 
ing the styles of Louis XVI, Louis XIII, Francois I, and the flamboyant 
Gothic of the end of the Middle Ages. At least, the sources are French, 
but this is hardly enough to give unity. As far as an harmonious ensemble 
is concerned, and despite the tremendous amount of wealth, taste, and 
skill involved, we might as well be in a mining-camp. 

It is pleasant to observe that people, lay and professional, are begin- 
ning to awaken to these absurdities. They are the more difficult to cor- 
rect, since to do so involves:a restraint on the personal liberty of client and 
architect—a thing becoming abhorrent to Americans. Legislation would 
be impossible and probably undesirable, as well. Anything that 1s done 


Fic. 125. New York, N.Y. Villard Houses. McKim, Mead & White, Architects. 


cgononcnsec 


hotograph by Tebbs Architect 


i 


al Photo Co. 
Fic. 126. New York, N. Y. Residence of H. I. Pratt, Esq. Delano & Aldrich, Architects. 
142 


Fic. 128. New York, N. Y. Houses on Park Avenue. 
143 


144. THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


must be done by agreement and common consent, each owner being brought - 
to realise that his own house would be finer if it had some relation to its 
surroundings. What New York needs is a magnate like Ralph Allen, of 
Bath, and an architect like John Wood to educate, bully, and wheedle its 
citizens into some conception of the idea of architectural harmony. 

That this result is sometimes attained on a modest scale can easily be 
proved. We reproduce a photograph of a block of buildings on upper 
Park Avenue between 67th and 68th Streets, by McKim, Mead & White, 
Delano & Aldrich, and Trowbridge & Livingston (Fig. 128), where the 
architects have sought and reached an architectural harmony. Though the 
buildings differ one from another, the group is brought into some sort of 
unity by means of a uniform material, brick with a limestone trim, a uni- 
form cornice line and belt course for the third story. Only the third 
house, with its break in the cornice and belt course, jars the harmony of 
the ensemble. : 

It seems ungracious to dwell on one questionable point, however, when 
so much fine work is being done. To analyse would require a separate 
book. We have the fine “period” house, such as we have just noted on 
Fifth Avenue. We have friendly and pleasant adaptations of brick Geor- 
gian, such as the house we reproduce, by John Cross, on upper Park Ave- 
nue at 64th Street (Fig. 129), a most interesting adaptation of the Amer- 
ican Colonial to a long, thin site, all of which for reasons of economy had 
to be covered and which might well have been the despair of the architect. 
We have houses of a true originality, such as the exquisite study in textures 
which we reproduce and which was done by Frederick Sterner for Mau- 
rice Brill, Esq. (Fig. 130). We have the transformation of old buildings 
in Greenwich Village into sober designs, reflecting the architectural his- 
tory of old New York, and here again oftentimes we have studies in unity. 
Indeed, it gives an unfair réclame to mention any specific examples, so 
many good ones are being done. We can congratulate ourselves heartily 
on the improvement in city house design, while we forecast and have faith 
in a movement towards greater unity. : 

Although we are reserving until later our discussion, under commer- 
cial buildings, of hotels, the problem of the apartment-house is so closely 
related to that of the home that it is best to say a word about it here. One 
of the most striking phenomena of the American architecture of to-day is 


Fic. 129. New York, N. Y. House on Park Avenue. ohn Cross, Architect. 


Fic. 130. New York, N. Y. Residence of Maurice Brill, Esq. Frederick F. Sterner, Architect. 
145 


146 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


the extraordinary growth of the apartment-house and, if we may use the 
term, the apartment-house idea. A generation or two ago the idea of the 
apartment was generally rather abhorrent. It had a faint association with 
the tenement. A few families lived in genteel apartments, but generally 
they were regarded as the homes of bachelors or of the more flighty and 
impermanent families. A solid citizen demanded a home, which he spelled 
with a capital “HH” and which he always associated with a separate house 
of his own. 

Nowadays, however, this prejudice against the apartment has almost 
entirely disappeared. Its conveniences have overcome its ancient associa- 
tions of a lack of privacy and a too marked gregariousness. The servant 
problem has largely been responsible for the change. The apartment can 
be run with far fewer servants and offers so many labour-saving devices to 
these that they submit more readily, or rather less unwillingly, to the 
service which an American seems always to regard as a degradation. More- 
over, the responsibilities of heat and light are thrown upon the superin- 
tendent. If there is a coal strike, the lord of the apartment does not have 
to rush upon a mad search for coal or its substitutes. He has nothing to 
do but grumble at the superintendent if there is not heat enough. He is 
relieved, too, of all the problems of caretaking. In the summer, he turns 
his key on his apartment, confident that it will be well looked after dur- 
ing his absence and be in good condition on his return. For these and 
many other reasons, he has come to reconcile himself to living in a war- 
ren and to making the first stage of his eventual transportation to the ceme- 
tery a trip in the high-speed elevator of a modern skyscraper. With the 
propriety and taste of this point of view we have no concern. Person- 
ally, the writer finds it deplorable, but he realises that he is old-fashioned 
and has no intention of bidding the tide turn back. For good or ill, apart- 
ment-house life is growing apace and may very well supersede in a short 
time the life of the single home. 

To understand the phenomenon, we must rid ourselves for all time 
of the idea that the dweller in an apartment lives there because it is cheap. 
He lives there because it is convenient and often pays more for the apart- 
ment than he would pay for a house with double the cubage of actual space 
in as good a locality. This being the case, the apartment is in a position — 
to invade the district that ordinarily would be reserved for the private 


Eee VOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE 147 


house and this is precisely what it has done. No matter how exclusive the 
neighbourhood, nor how costly the homes it contains, unless there is a 
zoning law to prevent, a house-owner has no earnest that his home will 
not be overshadowed at any time by a fifteen or twenty story apartment- 
house. We reproduce a snap-shot taken on upper Fifth Avenue (Fig. 
131). ‘There is no site in New York, save Riverside Drive, finer in nat- 
ural advantages than this, nor one that bade more fairly to develop into 
an exclusively residential district. Many beautiful and de luxe houses 
were built there, but now there is an apartment for every few houses. 
Our photograph shows three great apartments and the skeleton of an- 
other in the building. The apartments are as carefully designed and as 
beautifully made as the houses. Generally they are conservative in ex- 
pression, retaining the classic point of view, with plain walls rhythmically 
broken by windows, a band projection and balustrade which takes the place 
of the obsolete cornice at the top, and no hint of the steel construction be- 
yond the obvious fact that buildings of this scale and form could be built 
in no other way. They are intruders in the residential district, but self- 
respecting ones, and they assume that they will be taken as the social and 
artistic equals of the private residences which they supersede. 

The scale of some of these buildings is literally enormous. We re- 
produce a view of the apartment at 277 Park Avenue, by McKim, Mead 
& White (Fig. 132). It seems not so much a building as a town. Indeed, 
it is a town. Many walled towns in France and Italy, which call them- 
selves such, have fewer inhabitants than 277 Park Avenue. The interior 
court, secluded as it is vast, with its driveways which are real city streets 
and its gardens, suggests again a unified city design. It is a most impres- 
sive building, yet nothing in the development of modern American archi- 
tecture causes us to doubt that in a generation it will look like a very modest 
work. 

Though the old-fashioned will deplore the development of the apart- 
ment-house, they had better reconcile themselves to it. Some of its con- 
veniences we have already sketched, and others may be divined. It has 
many advantages over the ordinary house. Air becomes purer as we go 
up, breezes blow more steadily in warm weather, dust is less, and the 
noises of the street recede to a soothing mumble. Exquisite views are 
often afforded, and, now that the New York Zoning Law is in operation, 


“sI90nYI4P “9114 8) por “WiryIW 
“ONUIAY, ye LLG Se “N ‘Wao MAN “SEI “OI 


7 rece onset restr ansareioittspeaecsonncnas: 


eoomaperiancdecianed 


ronuaay yyy daddgq °*X °N SMMOX MIN 


TEL “Oly 


THE DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE § 149 


these views, though becoming more restricted as buildings multiply, will 
probably never become dull. In short, the cliff-dwellers have much to 
say in favour of their mode of living. For us it is enough to understand 
their point of view. 

One interesting effect of the new development is a tendency for the 
modern apartment-house dweller actually to own and have clear legal 
title to his apartment. Apartments are now bought and sold like houses. 
Often they are co-operatively built, a number of citizens combining to 
form a corporation, employ an architect, and build an apartment to suit 
themselves. This means considerable freedom in the design of the apart- 
ments and the possibility of the owner’s expressing, to some slight degree, 
his personality in his own. Often these are of the duplex variety, when 
an owner purchases two floors and has a dwelling of two stories, revert- 
ing in some degree to the point of view of the house, with different gen- 
eral functions for different stories. There is nothing but expense to pre- 
vent an individual from purchasing as many floors or portions of them as 
he chooses, and making his own design within them, provided, of course, 
that his plans are formulated and accepted before or during the erection 
of the building. 

It must be confessed that to date apartment-house owners have by no 
means taken advantage of the freedom offered to the owner as the apart- 
ment-house goes up. One would have expected rooms of two stories ar- 
ranged, say with a library and gallery, and the generous proportions and 
lofty ceilings that are possible in a private house. Such are rare, how- 
ever. The rooms of apartments are still generally low as compared to 
their length and, despite the exquisiteness of furniture and finish, pro- 
claim their apartmental origin. Nothing stands in the way, however, of 
attaining much the same proportions and effects in an apartment as are 
obtainable in an ordinary dwelling and, when the apartment idea is a little 
older, this may very well come and remove some of the most unpleasant 
connotations of apartment-house life. 

Thus far, we have dwelt rather snobbishly with the dwellings of the 
well-to-do. The same comfort which they demand as a right is also in 
generous part the portion of people of humbler means. This suggests 
another type of dwelling most interesting and most characteristic of a ten- 
dency in modern American architecture: the community settlement. Such 


150 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


settlements are not entirely modern; they have appeared occasionally since 
the industrial revolution became an accomplished fact. In modern times, 
however, they have become more numerous, far better planned and more 
complete in detail. Sometimes these have been the result of a philanthro- 
pist’s ideal, as at Mariemont, in Ohio, where a public-spirited and wealthy 
woman supplied the necessary capital for a complete community unit. The 
purpose here was purely philanthropic, but it has been found frequently 
that such communities can be financed and run at a profit, the increment in 
land values far overbalancing the cost of the project. A number of such 
community settlements have been created by the government in war time, 
or by great corporations which felt the necessity of comfortable and sani- 
tary housing for large bodies of workmen employed on some specific 
and reasonably permanent task. The designers employed on such work 
naturally tried to make the buildings and the ensemble attractive as well 
as comfortable and sanitary. In justice to the clients, we must add that 
they also bore this in mind. ‘They realised both the ethical satisfaction 
and the commercial value of a contented community, comfortably and 
pleasantly housed. It is hard to say whether such projects are philan- 
thropic or commercial. They are both, and teach a valuable lesson that 
the two are not only compatible but mutually encouraging. 

Such projects offer an ideal opportunity to the architect and city- 
planner, for the sites are usually undeveloped and unencumbered with 
buildings which confuse the problem. As a typical example, we might 
select the settlement known as Atlantic Heights, built for the Atlan- 
tic Corporation on the Piscataqua River, above Portsmouth, N. H., by © 
Kilham & Hopkins. The site was some sixty acres of ledgy, undulating 
ground, unprepossessing at first glance, but fraught with possibilities to 
an artist or firm with zsthetic imagination and practical common sense. 
The plan (Fig. 133) shows a compact village, designed to meet the com- 
plete needs of a community. Buildings of every function are arranged 
to suit the maximum convenience of the dwellers. Communications are 
carefully studied, and houses are arranged and designed with an eye to 
convenience, economy, and beauty withal. If we look at the architect’s 
sketch of some of the houses on the Raleigh Way (Fig. 134), we are 
struck not only by their homey comfort, their practicability and economy 
of material and construction, but by their picturesqueness and real beauty 


FSP tems ee 


5 SPAS aman 


ee oe 


Fic. 133. ArTitantic Heicuts, Portsmouth, N. H. A War Emergency Industrial Village. 
Kilham & Hopkins, Architects. 


Raleigh Way. 


Industrial Village. 


Fic. 1384. Atiantic Heicuts, Portsmouth, N. H. 
Kilham &§ Hopkins, Architects. 


Ig 


152 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


as well. Contrasting such a settlement with the squalid and hideously 
ugly surroundings in which our labouring classes often have to dwell, one 
can gauge the tremendous advance that modern American architecture 
has made in this particular field. The cynic often observes that the la- 
bouring man cares little for sanitation and nothing for beauty, and will 
cite the bathtubs filled with coal in some tenements in which a civic spirit 
has attempted to better the condition of the working classes. The obser- 
vation is superficial. Accustom the labourer to the blessings of decent 
living conditions and he will not readily revert to squalor. Correspond- 
ingly, accustom. him to beauty and he soon develops not only a pleasure, 
but a pride in it. The zsthetic sense is a universal one, manifest in the 
scrawniest geranium placed in a tomato-can on the window-sill. All that 
the sense needs is stimulation and guidance to become one of our great 
national assets. We should remember what history teaches us, that no 
great artistic period ever occurred in which the masses did not share. The 
creative artists and the educated elect must always lead, but they will 
struggle in darkness if their efforts are not at least partially understood 
and enjoyed by the majority of the population. Impatience with the 
professional “uplifter” should not blind us to the fact. 

Instances could be multiplied to a surprising extent. We reproduce, 
for example, the interesting plan of Hilton Village, in Newport News, 
Va. (Fig. 135), done for the Newport News Shipbuilding and Dry Dock 
Corporation. Here, Henry V. Hubbard, as landscape architect; Fran- 
cis Y. Joannes, as architect; and Francis H. Bulot, as sanitary engineer, 
collaborated to create a self-sufficient, coherent, and agreeable commu- 
nity. When we look at the School Group, or the group of shops and 
theatres (Fig. 136), we see how well convenience, utility, and beauty 
are combined. A similar scheme was put through in Lake Forest, Il., 
by Howard Shaw. Although the majority of these communities have 
appeared along the Atlantic seaboard, the problem is being attacked in 
many parts of the country and the numbers of such communities is stead- 
ily on the increase. At the same time the scale increases. Electus D. 
Litchfield’s scheme for Yorkship Village, Camden, N. J., involves the 
planning of a town nearly a mile long by half a mile wide. The archi- 
tects are fully alive to the dangers of mechanical feeling and “stock” 
design, and are honestly striving for charm as well as economy and effi- — 


ro 


“y 
ie 8! 
sag 5 


Ke sn inve 
hs 


a 
Fa 


Fic. 135. Huitron Vittace, Va. Industrial Village. Francis Y. foannes, Architect ; 
Henry V. Hubbard, Landscape Architect. 


Fic. 136. Hirron Vitiace, Va. Industrial Village. Francis Y. foannes, Architect ; 
Henry V. Hubbard, Landscape Architect. 


153 


154 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


ciency. The result is one of the most interesting phenomena of modern 
American architecture. 

In discussing domestic architecture, it is hard to know where to draw 
the line. Great apartment-houses come under the heading, yet they are 
commercial buildings as well. Similarly, clubs might be so classified, 
though they offer very special problems. The great country clubs might 
well have been discussed in connection with the formal country estate. 
Generally they conform to the architectural character of the district and 
are laid out with greater lavishness, though less formality, than even the 
most opulent private estates. In Florida there are many examples, usu- 
ally conforming architecturally to the prevailing Spanish type. As a foil 
to these, we might glance at such a work, so modest as to conceal its real 
luxury, as the late Guy Lowell designed for Piping Rock, L. I. (Fig. 
137). Using wood, and detail and composition which conforms to the 
Dutch traditions of Long Island, the architect produced a work that in 
its appointments fulfils all the requirements of the luxurious country 
club, yet in appearance looks as though it might have existed on the spot 
for two centuries. 

In like manner, the city clubs have produced buildings which are 
great works of art and, at the same time, embody every aspect of up-to- 
date convenience and luxury. Such a building as the University Club 
in New York, by McKim, Mead & White, produces a special architec- 
tural problem of its own. The designer has to allow for dining-rooms, 
grill-rooms, squash-courts, a library, a great lounge, a swimming-pool, 
the bedroom facilities of an up-to-date hotel, as well as all the kitchens 
and other services which accompany one. All this he must attain, with 
a constant eye for beauty as well. His clients will be among the most 
cultivated and exacting, quick to criticise an ugly or an ill-planned fea- 
ture, proud of the zsthetic success of the ensemble or of any given room. 

Before we leave the subject of domestic architecture, however, there 
is one phase of it so obvious that it might well be overlooked if we do 
not emphasise it: the extraordinary regard for the comfort of the inmate, 
rich or poor, which modern American architecture is showing. This is 
a tendency of all modern architecture, but especially so of American, since 
the standard of living in this country is so high and means are so abun- 
dant. When we compare modern architecture with that of the past, this 


Photograph by J. E. Crane. 
Fic. 137. Locust Vatiey, N. Y. Piping Rock Country Club. Guy Lowell, Architect. 


Fic. 1388. Cuicaco, Int. University of Chicago. Henry Ives Cobb, Architect. 
155 


156 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


is one of the things that strikes us most forcibly. Indeed, the comforts 
which surround even an humble American house-owner of to-day make 
the private life of Le Roi Soleil seem like that of a savage. Bent as he 
may be upon beauty of elevation, the architect spends by far the major- 
ity of his time on the plan. Even a modest house must have its carefully 
functionalised rooms. Bathrooms, with hot and cold running water, 
must be aplenty, and the guest must not be asked to share his with the 
host. Electric lighting is assumed even in the tenement. Heating-plants 
of hot air, steam, or water must keep the house comfortable in the iciest 
weather and, as the weather-strips exclude the intrusion of cold drafts, 
provision must be made for the circulation of air and the expulsion of 
vitiated atmosphere. The odour of cooking—a genial welcome to the 
guest of Colonial times—must not offend the nostrils of the modern until 
the moment that his food is placed under his nose. Lest the heating-plant 
be too efficient and overheat the house, electric thermostats control the 
temperature and close the dampers, disconnect the electricity, or check 
the flow of oil when the mercury rises to a given point. Mechanical de- 
vices for washing, drying, carpet-cleaning, and a dozen other occupations 
lighten the burden of the servant, or of the housewife, if the menage be 
of an humble sort. The age of machinery has invaded the home. Though 
we grumble at the loss of picturesqueness and sigh for the charm of the 
“good old days,” we can console ourselves with the thought that the 
commonplace American of to-day is living a life of luxury which would 
have made the magnate of a few generations ago gasp with amazement. 
What the future will be, with the further developments of electric power, 
the radio, and a thousand other inventions that are crowding us apace, 
we leave, as usual, to the seer. However we are tempted to arraign it, 
it will certainly be interesting. 

Distinctly related to the category of domestic architecture is what we 
may call academic, or institutional, architecture. This includes particu- 
larly collegiate building and the collegiate ensemble. Bearing in mind the 
large percentage of Americans who go to college, the impressionability of 
youth, and the enormous influence which the American college has upon 
the taste and thought of the class from which leaders are most commonly 
drawn, it is hard to overestimate the importance of this category of archi- 
tecture. 


THE DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE 157 


The special problems which it involves are manifold. The first is 
that of function. Most American colleges are housed in more than one 
building. Many include a hundred, or more. These buildings have many 
functions. One is a library. Another is a laboratory for physical. sci- 
ence. Another is an astronomical laboratory. There are buildings for 
administration, for classroom instruction, for worship, for student board, 
and for a score of other purposes, and of course there are the many dor- 
mitories bulking large in the scheme. In the larger institutions there are 
graduate schools of law, medicine, divinity, architecture, engineering, busi- 
ness administration, and the like. Sometimes a single building will house 
one of these schools; more often several are required. The Harvard 
Graduate School of Business Administration, just erected, is an inde- 
pendent collegiate unit, larger than the whole university was fifty years 
ago. Ihe natural and desirable tendency is to group these buildings ac- 
cording to function, or academic relation. The buildings for the physi- 
cal sciences should be together. The school of architecture should be close 
to the museum of fine arts. For social reasons, the dormitories should 
be kept together, and the college recitation buildings should be near them. 
The administration building and, above all, the library should be cen- 
trally located; the largest lecture hall and the theatre should be where 
they are easily accessible, both to the students and to the public, which 
will often come to them from afar. Room must be found, not too far 
away, for the athletic-field, and if the university be a large one, a stadium 
seating thousands has come to be regarded as a necessity. In this case, 
communications and traffic conditions must be studied carefully. Any 
one who has attended a great football game, like the Harvard-Yale, 
or Yale-Princeton games, or one of the major games in the Middle West 
or on the Pacific coast, will realise the difficulty not only in assembling 
and dismissing a crowd of fifty to a hundred thousand in the stadium 
itself, but of arranging traffic so that these immense crowds can be brought 
to and sent away from the field. Indeed, the whole problem of the ath- 
letic quarters, with stadium, baseball diamond, cage, locker building, 
courts, track, etc., is a special one. These are a few of the problems which 
confront the designer of an academic group. So complicated are the con- 
siderations involved, that the laymen can hardly list them, let alone grasp 
their real significance. The architect intrusted with the design of a col- 


158 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


legiate group is faced with one of the gravest responsibilities and glow- 
ing opportunities which the profession affords. ‘The same may be said 
of the architect responsible for the expansion of a university already in 
existence. 

The latter involves, if anything, more serious problems. Sometimes 
a great university may become so cramped that it has to move bodily 
to a new site, as in the case of Columbia or, more recently, the Univer- 
sity of Rochester. More often, however, a university has to remain on 
its old site and provide there for its expansion. It would be absurd, for 
example, to think of moving Harvard University. The invested cap- 
ital in the present plant would make a move impossible, even if there 
were not a thousand sentimental reasons which would prevent it. As a 
result, it must take care of its expansion in its present site, despite the fact 
that it 1s in the centre of a large city, with land values steadily rising and 
apartments and business buildings crowding it on every side. It must 
provide for new buildings, remodel old ones, and replace others, all with 
an eye both to efficiency and beauty, and with the minimum sacrifice of 
any which have those sentimental or historic associations so dear to any 
university. The problem as it exists at Harvard is acute, but it exists in 
a hundred other American institutions. 

A further difficulty is presented by old buildings: the difficulty of 
style. When a great institution like Columbia, or the Massachusetts In- 
stitute of Technology, moves to a new site, it can determine arbitrarily 
the style of the new buildings. A growing university on an old site can- 
not disregard the older buildings. Too often these are the worst aber- 
rations of the mid-Victorian period. Some institutions are venerable 
enough to run back beyond this work, and have Colonial buildings on 
the site with which the new buildings can be made to harmonise. If this 
1s not the case, however, no architect for the sake of unity will try to 
bring his new work into a close harmony with the architectural atrocities 
of the seventies and eighties. Some sort of a compromise must be ar- 
ranged and its success will depend upon the skill and imagination of the 
architect. 

At the outset, we must note that the tendency of academic architec- 
ture is conservative. In America, far more than in Continental Europe, 
the university atmosphere tends to be conservative. Paradoxically, a new 


THE DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE 19 


country tends to place an exaggerated value on the historic traditions which 
it possesses, and this is a marked feature in university life. A well-known 
epigram at Harvard states that one can establish a “tradition” there in 
four years—a college generation—and this is hardly an exaggeration. Ask 
any Harvard or Yale man how long the official colours of Harvard have 
been crimson and Yale blue and he will almost surely reply “always,” 
despite the fact that the writer has recently talked with a member of the 
Aarvard crew which, by wearing red bandannas on the day of the Yale 
race, started the “official” use of crimson as a Harvard colour. We shall 
find, therefore, only rare instances of radicalism in collegiate architecture. 

Generally American universities have been and are being built in one 
of two styles: Georgian Colonial, or Gothic. Both represent the con- 
Servative tendency. The one asserts our connection with the Colonial 
past and revives a style which, in spite of its English and eventually 
Italian origin, we have come to consider nationally American. The other 
is inspired by American respect and admiration for the English univer- 
sities of Oxford and Cambridge, so rich in examples of academic Gothic. 
From the enormous mass of material which confronts us we must select 
a few examples which will exhibit the problems and their solutions in 
both styles. 

Gothic has never died in the United States since the romantic re- 
vival, but it fell somewhat into disfavour in the nineties, after the Chi- 
cago Exposition, when America reverted to classicism as her national style 
and Gothic survived chiefly in churches. Its unpopularity was on the 
whole justified by the stupidity of many of the monuments done in the 
style during the Victorian period. Nevertheless, an occasional house was 
built in the style, most Americans continued their belief that one can 
worship God properly only in a Gothic building and, for the cloistered 
atmosphere of the university, Gothic was considered eminently apt. An 
ultimatum of this came in 1891 when, thanks largely to the munificence 
of John D. Rockefeller, Esq., work was begun on the new buildings for 
the University of Chicago. Henry Ives Cobb was the architect, and he 
worked out a consistent Gothic scheme, with the maximum of unity both 
in plan and elevation (Fig. 138). On the main axis were the univer- 
sity library and the chapel; one the building which is most important in 
any university, the other that which many people think ought to be. Right 


160 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


and left were four great quadrangles, surrounded with buildings. Iwo 
were for undergraduates, one was for women, and one for graduate stu- 
dents. In this case, the architect was practically unhampered by old 
buildings or difficulties of site. He could plan from a clear start and his 
Gothic design was the parent of many in American colleges. Though 
his buildings look a little old-fashioned now and cannot compare, either 
in beauty or an understanding of Gothic, with the modern work, for ex- 
ample, at Princeton or Yale, his scheme was a profound one and he de- 
serves the great reputation which his design won him. 

As an example of the other type of building, in which a Georgian 
style is followed and in which many older buildings of heterogeneous 
style had to be considered, we could find none better than Harvard. Har- 
vard rejoices in the possession of some beautiful structures and some of 
the ugliest in the United States. Her buildings run in date all the way 
from 1720 to 1927. As a general thing, the eighteenth-century build- 
ings are nicely proportioned and quaint, constructed in a warm brick, with 
a pleasant texture. Her early nineteenth-century buildings are in the 
dignified classic style which Bulfinch, a graduate of the university, and 
the designer of at least one of its buildings, had helped to evolve. Then, 
soon after the Civil War, came a wave of pseudo-Gothic; responsible for 
some fine things with many faults, like Memorial Hall, and some things 
which were wholly ugly, like Weld. Fortunately, the Victorian Gothic was 
built in brick, except the library, which was a poor imitation in granite 
of King’s Chapel, Cambridge, and which has been destroyed in order to 
make way for a much larger building on the site. There was at least, 
therefore, harmony of material. The modern buildings, with few ex- 
ceptions, have happily followed the Georgian tradition. 

If we look at a map of the Harvard Yard (Fig. 139), however, we 
see what a nightmare confronts the future planner of Harvard. Our 
admirable forebears had little idea of planning an architectural ensemble. 
As they acquired means, they added buildings, putting each where they 
happened to find room for it. There is not a building really on axis 
with anything else. Almost no coherent arrangement can be found for 
new buildings, or for the modification of old. To make matters worse, 
a peaceful village has turned into a bustling city and the Yard itself, the 
heart of the university, has been hemmed about by business blocks and 


THE DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE 161 


roaring traffic. The problem becomes one of cloistering the Yard from 
the noisy streets and at the same time connecting it with the groups of 
new buildings which are built outside of it. Several sites have been de- 
veloped for several functions. The freshman dormitories have been built 
on the left bank of the Charles. On the right are the playing-fields, and 
recently a large lot has been taken for the Graduate School of Business 
Administration. This must be connected with the left river-bank by a 
bridge, both for handier communication and for architectural unity. 
Northeast of the Yard the lots are devoted to the laboratories of the phys- 
ical sciences and northwest are the buildings of the Law School. 

The problem is to bring all these into harmony and to plan for future 
expansion and new needs. ‘This, too, should involve the minimum of 
destruction of old buildings, partly because such destruction is uneconomi- 
cal, partly because our taste—though seldom we admit it—is not infal- 
lible. We can never be sure that a building execrated in our day will 
not be admired to-morrow. Man tends to dislike the styles of his imme- 
diate forebears and admire those of several generations ago. The very 
Colonial buildings at Harvard which now inspire our modern designers 
were, by that cultivated gentleman, James Russell Lowell, described as 
“factories of the muses,” to which nothing could lend even dignity, let 
alone beauty. 

The task at Harvard has been, therefore, to erect barriers against the 
noise of the surrounding streets, to attain as much order as possible with- 
out destroying the older buildings placed haphazard in the Yard, to de- 
velop a brick architecture as nearly in harmony as possible with the pre- 
vious work, and to mask, as far as possible, the older buildings which are 
generally conceded to be ugly. As an example of the work, we might 
study a view of one of the new small dormitories, Mower Hall (Fig. 
140), designed by Coolidge, Shepley, Bulfinch & Abbot, to complete a 
small quadrangle and shut off the Yard at that point from Massachusetts 
Avenue. The building is frankly designed in the style of Massachu- 
setts Hall, the earliest eighteenth-century building in the university. It 
is quiet, of the severest economy of material, but well proportioned and 
full of the picturesque charm of its Georgian prototype. It adjoins build- 
ings of the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries and yet is perfectly 
in harmony with them. 


162 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


It brings out one great advantage of the Georgian style: its economy. 
Dignified and beautiful work may be done in brick and limestone, or 
even brick and wood, in the Georgian style at infinitely less cost than 
Gothic. Gothic must be in stone. Modern architecture has yet to learn 
to do good Gothic in brick. There are plenty of original examples in 
brick, but attempts to imitate them have as yet been pitifully unsuccess- 
ful. Gothic is easy to do; good Gothic, extremely difficult. Bad Gothic 
can be built cheaply; good Gothic, in study, detail, and material, is a costly 
medium. | 

To bring home more vividly the problem of designing a unified group 
in a style conformable to the other buildings of a university, we might 
cite the Harvard Graduate School of Business Administration. Thanks 
to the generosity of Mr. George F. Baker, means were made available in 
1924 to build a complete group to house the school. A competition was 
arranged. Six architects were invited to compete and six more were se- 
lected from a preliminary competition. When the designs were submit- 
ted, all had conformed to the Georgian traditions of Harvard architecture, 
yet there was the widest divergence in plan, and even elevation. The 
winner, McKim, Mead & White, arranged a formal group (Figs. 141, 
142), almost in a French manner, with radial lines from the river, a vista 
on the main axis leading to the library,—the largest building,—and the 
dormitories and professors’ houses relegated to the rear. This gave the 
latter the disadvantage of exclusion from the river front, but the ad- 
vantage of a southern exposure.* ‘The individual buildings, such as the 
library (Fig. 143), were designed in the simplest Georgian brick, beau- 
tifully proportioned and daintily refined in detail. 

As a foil to that, we may examine the design submitted by Professor 
J. J. Haffner, of the Harvard School of Architecture, associated with 
Perry, Shaw & Hepburn. Although Professor Haffner is a graduate of 
the Ecole des Beaux-Arts and a winner of the Grand Prix de Rome, he 
scrupulously avoided the symmetry and formality which we associate with 
French design, feeling it out of harmony with the traditions of Harvard 
architecture and the semidomestic character of a school of learning. His 


* After winning the competition the architects changed this scheme and placed the 
dormitories on the river front, an arrangement which had been submitted by some of the 
other competitors. 


Fic. 139. CamsBrince, Mass. Harvard University. 
Plan by Coolidge, Shepley, Bulfinch & Abbott, Architects. 


« ro 


Photograph by F ay S. Lincoln. 


Fic. 140. Camsripce, Mass. Harvard University: Mower Hall. 
Coolidge, Shepley, Bulfinch & Abbott, Architects. 


163 


"span YIP “BY Y 82 poopy “uryIW 
‘dnosg) Surpying ay) Joy uoNedwo+ 9y) UI UBIseq, BuIUUIAA ‘“UOIeIIsIUIWIPY SsouIsng Jo [OOYIS :AIISIOAIUL:) PAvAIeFT “SSVI {aoOaIAUanvD 


‘Areaqyy] JO UOHeAMNA “EFT “OY | ‘ued ‘TFL OW 


‘aaAnoedsiag «ZHI “Ol 


THE DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE 16s 


perspective (Fig. 144) shows us order, to be sure, but an unself-conscious 
order. Exact symmetry is avoided and a corner of the lot is used for an 
irregular group of professors’ houses. His group plan (Fig. 145) shows 
no vista to the river, he apparently being unwilling to orient the design 
to face north in a group that was to be used largely in winter. There are 
neither formal axes, nor entirely enclosed courts, the designer trying in 
an orderly way to attain the complete informality of grouping of the 
older university buildings. The dormitory plans show the same tendency, 
a carefully studied geometric scheme giving the appearance almost of a 
rambling design with informal quadrangles and unexpected vistas through 
the communicating lanes from building to building and group to group. 
The chief building is the library (Fig. 146), carefully planned from the 
point of view of library efficiency and exhibiting a monumental but sim- 
ple facade. Here, too, the detail harmonises perfectly with Georgian | 
work. 3 

A different solution was reached by Shepley, Rutan & Coolidge (now 
Coolidge, Shepley, Bulfinch & Abbott). This firm had done many build- 
ings for the university; among them, the freshman dormitories, two of 
which we reproduce (Figs. 147, 148). These are supremely successful 
adaptations of Georgian Colonial to modern academic design. The fresh- 
man dormitories are placed on the north bank of the river, two of them 
facing it and oriented south. It naturally occurred to the architects to echo 
this group across the stream (Fig. 149). Changing the main axis to east 
and west, with the chief entrance on the street instead of on the river, they 
brought the dormitories to the river edge and gave them an appearance 
definitely re-echoing that of the buildings on the other side of the Charles. 
It was a satisfactory and entirely logical solution. 

Still others were to be found. Aymar Embury II reverted to the 
north and south axis (Fig. 150), but, like Haffner, avoided absolute 
symmetry and blocked the vista from the river front. He also set his 
buildings back farther from the river. His designs for the library and 
the dining-halls were exquisitely appropriate, and proportioned so _per- 
fectly that one feels that the jury must have been strong-minded not to 
award the competition to him on these elevations alone. Still another 
interesting solution was found by Guy Lowell (Fig. 151), who avoided 
both the north and the east axes and oriented his group northwest and 


‘spanty24p payorzossp ‘uangdapy 6) avys ‘K4sag puv saufoyy “££ 
»  tue[g dnorn ‘uonesysturumpy ssouisng jo [ooyds oy} Joy sudisaq] eanneduioy jo auQ «“ANISIOAIUE) PleAIv}Y “ssvJQ[ “AOGINAWVD 


‘Aiviqry Jo uoneATyA “YF “OY rl MEP OF 


~~ ore 


mn * mechs 


‘raanoedsi9g “FFI ‘OY 


Photograph by Fay S. rate: 
Fic. 147, Camsripce, Mass. Harvard University: Gore Hall. Shepley, Rutan & Coolidge, Architects. 


PRATER RO LeiInLe Reem mit, 


Fic. 148. Camsripce, Mass. Harvard University: Standish Hall. 
Shepley, Rutan & Coolidge, Architects. 


Fic. 149. CamsBripce, Mass. Harvard University. 
One of Competitive Designs for the School of Business Administration. 
Coolidge, Shepley, Bulfinch & Abbott, Architects. 


167 


168 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


southeast, with the main entrance at the corner nearest the Anderson 
bridge, which crosses the Charles at this point. Again, it was an entirely 
logical and sensible scheme. | 

We have examined the Harvard Business School in some detail, not 
because, as a group, it is more important than many others we might se- 
lect, but because it is such an illuminating example. It shows clearly 
the variety of schemes, all of them sensible, which can be used to solve 
a problem. It shows how much variety will be got by a number of bril- 
lant architects, working independently, yet all restricted to a given style. 
It reflects credit on all the firms that took part in the final competition 
and brings out vividly the tremendous amount of talent which a single 
competition of this sort will call forth. Indeed, it might almost be used 
as an argument against such competitions, since only one firm can win, 
and the effort, the skill and the talent of the others are thrown away. The 
jury did not publish its deliberations, but we know that it had a very diffi- 
cult task in selecting the winner. 

In our survey of other academic work, we cannot, of course, go into 
the detail that we have in reviewing that at Harvard, else we should 
leave no space for the other types of architecture which we must study. 
On the other hand, there is so much of this work and so much of it is 
good, that it is difficult not to overemphasise it. The same problem which 
we have exhibited at Harvard we might have illustrated at many other 
sites. One closely related to that at Harvard was worked out by John 
Russell Pope for the expansion of Dartmouth College, Hanover, N. H. 
Here, as at Harvard, in a Colonial college, the tradition was Georgian 
and the architect cheerfully accepted it. His library court (Fig. 152) is 
a charming ensemble of Georgian brick buildings with a white trim, so 
perfectly in keeping with the traditions of the college that we feel that 
they might have been built a century and a half ago. The perspective 
view of two dormitories (Fig. 153) shows a work which might have been 
born of a union of Massachusetts and Harvard Halls at Cambridge, re- 
peating neither, original, yet so convincingly Colonial that we can hardly 
believe that it is not a charming sketch of an eighteenth-century work. 
Whether these buildings will actually be constructed is dubious. That 
they would be a credit to the college, if built, is beyond dispute. 

This classic Georgian or Republican work is indigenous to the Atlan- 


SCALE "407 od 


Fic. 150. CamsBripce, Mass. Harvard University. 
One of Competitive Designs for the School of Business Administration. Aymar Embury ITI, Architect. 


Fic. 151. CamsBripce, Mass. Harvard University. 
One of Competitive Designs for the School of Business Administration. Guy Lowell, Architect. 


169 


Fic. 152. Hanover, N. H. Dartmouth College. Sketch for Library. ohn Russell Pope, Architect. 


Fic. 153. Hanover, N.H. Dartmouth College. Sketch for Dormitories. 
John Russell Pope, Architect. 


170 


THE DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE 91 


tic seaboard and especially New England and northern New York. Its 
dignity, its economy, and its practicability, however, have commended it 
to other localities where it can be used without clashing with older work. 

We must not linger too long over classic work, however, when so much 
fine Gothic clamours for our notice and admiration. Cobbs lesson at Chi- 
cago bore fruit and “academic Gothic” became the word at many a great 
institution. One of its happiest examples is at Princeton, where a bold 
decision was made to sweep away as much as possible of the earlier, ugly 
work and expand and rebuild in a Gothic style. The charm, picturesque- 
ness, and Old World flavour of Gothic art seemed appropriate to aca- 
demic halls, and however we may criticise the propriety of Gothic in mod- 
ern times, we cannot gainsay the charm of the work at Princeton. A 
number of architects contributed to make it one of the most beautiful 
universities in the United States. We reproduce one of the great halls 
done for Princeton by Day & Klauder (Fig. 154), a Philadelphia firm, 
skilled in the use of native stone. Not only is the work fine Gothic, but 
it shows textures as agreeable as in an ancient building. The modern 
architect is confronted with the difficulty of producing modern Gothic 
and, without artificial ageing, attaining the beauty of surface texture and 
colour of old work. By a careful selection of materials and the har- 
monious and careful use of stones of different tones, Day & Klauder have 
attained just this effect. A view of the east wing and court of Pyne Hall, 
with its terrace, its broken sky-line, and its studied irregularity, forms a 
composition as charming as one could hope to find in the Old World. 
That it is an inspiration to students to live in such beautiful surround- 
ings is enthusiastically attested by many a Princeton man. This work 
was ably furthered by Cram, Goodhue & Ferguson, when they built the 
Princeton Graduate School. They did a massive pile Chip vrs Cle comics 
nated by a great stone lantern, which is a landmark for miles, as one ap- 
proaches the town. Solidity, seriousness, age are symbolised in their work, 
modern as it is, and even the classicist, when he visits Princeton, becomes 
a convert to the Gothic point of view. 

Yale has followed Princeton. Both are universities of Colonial foun- 
dation, but both seem definitely to have abandoned Colonial architecture 
for academic Gothic. James Gamble Rogers has been the chief spirit at 
Yale. His Harkness Memorial (Fig. 156) is justly regarded as one of 


Photograph by M. E. Hawt: 
Fic. 154. Princeton, N. J. Princeton University: Pyne Hall. Day & Klauder, Architects. 


tote 


Ke St 


Photograph by Paul J. Weber. 
Fic. 155. Princeton, N. J. Princeton University: Graduate School. 
Cram, Goodhue & Ferguson, Architects. 


172 


THE DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE 173 


the gems of modern American architecture. He seems happily to have 
been untroubled by expense, but given carte blanche and requested to 
spare nothing which would make the building more beautiful. He has 
gone farther than the architects at Princeton to get a true Gothic effect, 
even resorting to such expedients as hollowing the thresholds to give the 
appearance of stone worn for centuries by plodding feet. A view of one 
court (Fig. 157) shows even early Renaissance design included with the 
Gothic, as work of a later date so often obtrudes itself upon Gothic in 
England and the Continent. The designer has made an especial effort 
in the sculpture, encouraging good sculptors to carve the ornament and 
express their own personality in the work. Individuality, even humour, 
are everywhere, and the general impression is startlingly like that of a 
true Gothic building of the thirteenth century, upon which a hundred in- 
dependent artist craftsmen worked under the loose supervision of a mag- 
ister operaru. Vhe tiny scale of some of the dormitory openings con- 
trasts deliberately with the massiveness of some of the large gateways. 
The whole is dominated by a slender and graceful flamboyant tower, one 
of the masterpieces of Gothic, ancient or modern. 

The Harkness Memorial is an undoubted gem. It was got, how- 
ever, at a price. One cannot build in this way if one has to consider ex- 
pense. In so building, too, one sets a standard which it is very hard to 
live up to in later work, when abundant funds are less available. More- 
over, such work is hardly as practical as is classic. The charge is often 
brought that, in order to gain the necessary picturesqueness, the windows 
are made too small and not as well placed as they might be from the prac- 
tical point of view. Although this charge is probably exaggerated, there 
is some truth in it, and it is very open to question whether Gothic can ever 
be as satisfactory from the practical point of view as the broad-walled, 
horizontally accented, classical styles. Whatever the truth may be, how- 
ever, we shall always be glad that the Harkness Memorial was done. 

Another great Gothic work, properly of a less delicate character, is the 
pile of buildings designed by Cram, Goodhue & Ferguson for the United 
States Military Academy at West Point (Fig. 159). Here the style lent 
itself to the character of the building. Not only had it academic associa- 
tions, but it was also one of the great military styles. Of necessity it was 
given a sterner character at West Point than in a purely academic work. The 


Fames Gamble Rogers, Architect. 


Harkness Memorial. 


iversity 


Yale Un 


New Haven, Cown. 


Fic. 156. 


129]tY IAP ‘ShaBZOY aquivyy sauvg 


"“JOMOT WeYyXxot 
:AJISIOAIULZ) JB *NNOD 


[elOWsyA, ssouysle py 
‘NJAVE]T MIN “SCT 


oly 


"IaptyIap “ssaBOy aquivy samvg 
“s[lvjaq] aouvsstvusy BulMoYys “inod = "[eLIoWAy, ssouyIePy 
AJISIOAIUL) BBX "NNOD ‘NSAVE] MIN “/CT ‘Ol 


175 


176 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


Post Headquarters has a most fortresslike solidity. Even the Chapel 
(Fig. 160), with its beautiful proportions, has a severity got by the rugged 
masonry, the rectangular sections with the maximum elimination of mould- 
ings, the turreted buttresses, and the battlemented sky-line, which re- 
echoes the military ensemble. The site, towering above a picturesque and 
mighty river, is to the highest degree impressive and the architect has 
taken full advantage of it. 

We must not linger too long over Gothic academic architecture, but 
its charm makes it difficult to leave it. Nothing reflects more credit on 
the modern designer than the way he has learned to handle this style. 
Such buildings as those designed by Maginnis & Walsh, for Boston Col- 
lege (Fig. 161), have charm and modernity. They adapt Gothic to 
modern needs, with none of the dryness and lifelessness which marked 
the style as it was used in this country a generation ago. 

We must not get the impression, however, that all academic work is 
necessarily Georgian or Gothic. Many other styles have been applied 
successfully to the problem, especially when geographical locality sug- 
gested it. One of the most interesting examples is the Rice Institute, at 
Houston, Texas, by Ralph Adams Cram. Here a broad plain, semi- 
tropical vegetation, and a brilliant sun suggested a special treatment and 
especially one that involved polychromy. Using forms derived from By- 
zantium and Venice, but in no way copying anything that had gone be- 
fore, the architect created an impressive ensemble (Fig. 162). To see it in 
the black and white, however, is to lose its greatest beauty. American 
architecture is very timid in the use of colour. Our Victorian designers 
did such hideous work in colour that the moderns have leaned to classic 
monotone and the safe chastity of white, or white and brick. We forget 
that classic architecture was colourful. We forget the great colour de- 
signs of Pintoricchio and Raphael in the Renaissance. Our students see 
photographs of great masterpieces and acquire a superb sense of form 
and proportion, but they have little idea of colour in architecture. Too 
often we associate colour with vulgarity and display, feeling it somehow 
undignified, and forgetting that only bad colour is vulgar. American 
architecture needs nothing more than a knowledge of the possibilities of 
rich colour handled with taste. The Rice Institute proves that an Ameri- 
can architect can, if he have courage, originality, and taste, compose in 
colour as successfully as any of the great designers in the past. 


Fic. 159. West Point, N. Y. U.S. Military Academy: Post Headquarters. 
Cram, Goodhue &§ Ferguson, Architects. 


Fic. 160. West Point, N. Y. U.S. Military Academy: Chapel. 
Cram, Goodhue & Ferguson, Architects. 


177 


Fic. 161. Newron, Mass. Boston College: Recitation Building. 
Maginnis & Walsh, Architects. 


Fic. 162. Houston, Texas. Rice Institute: Administration Building. 
Cram, Goodhue & Ferguson, Architects. 


178 


THE DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE 179 


It is not impossible to design an academic architecture entirely from 
the modern point of view. A good example of this is the enormous build- 
ing done by W. W. Bosworth for the Massachusetts Institute of Tech- 
nology (Fig. 163). In designing a great technical school, the architect 
felt the desirability of expressing a truly modern feeling. Gothic, in 
such a work, would have been absurd. An engineering building, above 
all, should express its engineering structure. In the Technology Build- 
ing, we feel the steel with its envelope of stone. We rejoice in the prac- 
ticality of the great glass openings, slashed from attic to pavement, and 
revealing the steel floors of the various stories frankly and honestly. An- 
other unusual feature is the enclosing of all the various schools of Tech- 
nology under one building, instead of trying to group many buildings to- 
gether. ‘This gives a striking sense of scale and spaciousness. At the 
same time, plenty of opportunity is left for expansion according to the 
original design. Of course the building has points one can criticise. The 
great entrance court looks too much for show and too little for use and, 
indeed, it is seldom used. Most of the students have found more con- 
venient openings for ingress and egress, unobtrusively placed in other 
parts of the building. None can deny, however, that the Technology 
buildings are beautiful and even inspiring. They are a good example, 
incidentally, of the advantage of moving a great institution to an entirely 
new site, when it has outgrown its old one, and giving the architect an 
opportunity to work unhampered by the consideration of old buildings. 
If we compare an aeroplane photograph of Technology with one of Har- 
vard (Figs. 163, 164), only two miles away, this fact appears in almost 
comic relief. | 

The last word in modernism in academic architecture is the proposed 
“Cathedral of Learning” at Pittsburgh (Fig. 165). Here the univer- 
sity authorities have proposed a tremendous skyscraper, towering thirty 
or forty stories skyward and housing the chief departments of the insti- 
tution. The building has actually been designed by Charles Z. Klauder, 
of Philadelphia, and his scheme is one of great interest and beauty. In 
form, he has been painstakingly careful to avoid any archzological ten- 
dency, and the beauty of his building depends upon its mass, its soaring 
grace, its terrific suggestion of verticality, and its interesting silhouette. 
As a skyscraper, none will deny its effectiveness and beauty. 


© Fairchild Aerial Surveys, Inc. 


Fic. 163. CamBripce, Mass. An Aerial View of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, 
Looking Eastward from Charles River. William Welles Bosworth, Architect. 


- omen 


S Cepepeyrerer rs 


oN y : £ 
© Fairchild Aerial Surveys, Inc. 


Fic. 164. Camsripce, Mass. Harvard University and Surroundings. 


180 


THE DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE | 181 


On the other hand, the authorities of the University of Pittsburgh 
must have realised that what they proposed was revolutionary and would 
be attacked. Indeed, they probably took satisfaction in their originality 
and gloried in the attack. The question remains whether a steel sky- 
Scraper 1S an appropriate or a practical house for a university. That it 
has not thus far been used for the purpose we can discount. This should 
not be urged against its use in the future and, if it were proper and apt, 
we should rejoice in the adaptation of one of the most ingenious and beau- 
tiful forms of American architecture to academic needs. 

There are, however, serious objections to the use of such a build- 
ing for this function. In theory, the high-speed elevator has made ver- 
tical communication as easy as horizontal. In fact, this is not entirely 
true. Lhe university day is regulated by a bell. At the stroke of ten, 
let us say, it is necessary for a class of several hundred to leave a hall and 
another class of several hundred to enter it. Supposing there were fif- 
teen hundred students involved, it would be difficult to see how elevator 
service could take care of the circulation in less than twenty minutes or 
a half an hour.* This brings up merely one practical difficulty. Re- 
lated to it is the feeling that student life in such a building would be dis- 
jointed. The congregating in corridors or crowding into elevators would 
be a poor substitute for the mass movements from building to building 
and the genial grouping before a building of a class awaiting its time to 
enter. Even the question of economy comes in, for students in an ordi- 
nary collegiate building can be trusted to transport themselves, while those 
of a Cathedral of Learning would have to be transported at every move. 

Other considerations, more abstract and less easy to answer dogmati- 
cally, are bound to enter. A steel building is not merely modern, it sug- 
gests impermanence. Steel, we know, is subject to change. To be sure, 
the life of steel is uncertain and no one seems to worry about the im- 
permanence of our great steel bridges; nevertheless, we know that steel, 
unlike stone, is not everlasting. At a guess, we might give the Cathedral 
of Learning a life of two or three hundred years, or even more; one 
could hardly imagine such a building existing for a thousand. The mod- 
ernist will retort that this makes no difference; that avy building will be 


* It is fair to say that no one is more alive to this difficulty than the designer, and he 
promises to solve it. 


Fic. 165. Pirrssurcu, Pa. University of Pittsburgh: Proposed “Cathedral of Learning.” 
Charles Z. Klauder, Architect. 


182 


THE DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE 183 


obsolete in a thousand years and ought to be pulled down. Practically, 
this may be so; zxsthetically, it is certainly wrong. Granted that the Ca- 
thedral of Learning will not be needed a thousand years from now, it 
ought not to remind us of the fact. Age and association have not only 
a sentimental value, but a practical one, as well. 

The question resolves itself into whether the beauty and the sugges- 
tion of American dynamic vitality embodied in Mr. Klauder’s building 
compensate for the impermanence, restlessness, and bustling modernity 
of his design for an academic building. It is a question whether there is 
any value in old association, in a feeling of solidity, in at least the partial 
cloistering of the student during the period of his education, when con- 
centration is so necessary and distraction such a stumbling-block. Per- 
haps the student has the world too little with him. Perhaps he is too 
little in touch with modern life. On the other hand, we could hardly 
expect him to read his book in the officer’s cage of the traffic control on 
Fifth Avenue and 42d Street. Whether or not the Cathedral of Learn- 
ing is apt and suitable, each must answer for himself. One doubts, how- 
ever, if it will set a type of any far-reaching influence in modern Ameri- 
can architecture. 

Our brief review of academic architecture has, of course, been super- 
ficial and general. We have left out many important individual features 
which demand special study, are immensely interesting, but which must 
be excluded from a review of this sort. Laboratories, college libraries, 
medical schools, and a dozen other types thrust forward special prob- 
lems which we have no time to analyse. One type has grown up, how- 
ever, not necessarily of academic origin, but almost always appended to 
an academic group and so important in modern American architecture that 
some mention of it must be included. This is the great stadium, seating 
anywhere from fifty to a hundred thousand people, in which the univer- 
sity athletic contests are staged. There are, to be sure, similar amphi- 
theatres and arenas constructed for commercial sport and some of these 
now surpass the academic athletic structures, but the great stadium in this 
country was developed in connection with the universities and can be con- 
sidered under that head. 

A few examples will suffice. All amaze one by the skill of the en- 
gineering design. Some are given a truly architectural character. One 


184 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


of the earliest great stadia was that at Harvard, built by McKim, Mead 
& White, and Professor Hollis, Professor Johnson, and J. R. Worces- 
ter as engineers (Fig. 166). The construction was, of course, reinforced 
concrete. ‘The stadium is U-shaped, its long sides straight, and one end 
open to permit a 220-yard straightaway for the running-track. Round 
the top 1s an open, Doric colonnade of concrete. The sides are very steep, 
affording good views for the spectators and making the building more 
picturesque. The Harvard stadium, in spite of its severity and practical 
utility in material and construction, is a very splendid work of art. 

Another very impressive American stadium is Franklin Field, at Phil- 
adelphia (Fig. 167), built of brick and concrete. Its architects were Day 
& Klauder, its engineers Gavin Hadden and H. T. Campion. It is even 
severer than the stadium at Harvard and is effective chiefly through the 
sense of power and scale given by its simple masses. 

Still another type is the Yale Bowl, by Donn Barber (Fig. 168). 
Here the ingenious idea occurred by which half the depth of the stadium 
was reached through excavation and the elevation attained with the ma- 
terial excavated. The spectators enter by tunnels on a level with the 
ground and find themselves, when they reach the interior, half-way be- 
tween the playing-field and the top of the stadium. Such a system re- 
quires the most careful drainage, but this was perfectly handled at New 
Haven, so that the field is entirely satisfactory from this point of view. 
The slope of the Yale Bowl is gentler than that of the Harvard Stadium 
and the shape is rounder. This means that many seats are disagreeably 
far from the players so that one can see them well only with glasses. 
This is the more inevitable, since the Yale structure seats half again as 
many people as that at Harvard (approximately 75,000 at Yale). In- 
deed, the Yale Bowl brings home squarely the impossibility of expanding 
indefinitely these great structures. Only one way exists of increasing the 
seating capacity without putting the spectators absurdly far from the play, 
and that is by double-decking the arena and having tiers of seats super- 
posed. 2 

This has actually been done in the case of the Yankee Stadium * (Fig. 
169), a commercial structure for professional baseball, built by the Os- 


* The upper galleries at Franklin Field were recently added. ‘They not only greatly 
increased the seating capacity but actually improved the design. 


6 


Photogrash by Fay S. Lincoln. 


Fic. 166. Campripce, Mass. Harvard University: Stadium. 
McKim, Mead & White, Architects ; Hollis, fohnson, F. R. Worcester, Engineers. 


Fic. 167. Putrape.puia, Pa. University of Pennsylvania: Franklin Field. 
Day & Klauder, Architects. 


Fic. 168. New Haven, Conn. Yale University: Yale Bowl. Donn Barber, Architect. 
185 


186 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


born Engineering Company. The field is entirely enclosed by building 
in reinforced concrete. Within, the steel construction allows for three 
tiers of seats, the lowest gently sloping, the highest steeply pitched, so 
that every seat has a good view. The whole is covered with a roof. The 
effect is ingenious and practical, but not beautiful. We cannot get away 
from the impression that we are looking at the skeleton of an exaggerated 
theatre, unhappily exposed to the air, and we miss the spaciousness of the 
true amphitheatre. 

Space lacks for any further discussion of this interesting subject and 
it is a pity, for very fine structures of this sort are going up in many parts 
of the country. One is tempted at least to mention the magnificent Coli- 
seum at Los Angeles (Fig. 170), by John and Donald Parkinson, one 
of the most magnificent in scale and impressive in appearance of the type. 
Like the Yale Bowl, it is partly excavated and, like the Yale Bowl, its 
tiers of seats are gently sloping, removing many of the spectators to a 
disagreeable distance from the play. There is a physical limit to the size 
of these structures, not from the point of view of the designer or engi- 
neer but from that of the human being, whose ocular power cannot in- 
crease with the ambitious expansion of the building, and this limit seems 
about reached. Space lacks, too, to discuss the open-air theatres, such as 
that at Virginia, or the beautiful one at the University of California. We 
can simply note that our colleges and universities, however conservative in 
other design, have been progressives in the study of the stadium and the 
open-air theatre. 

Any discussion of academic architecture, however brief, must include 
some mention of the extraordinary development in the design of schools. 
A generation ago there was practically no scientific study of the school 
problem. The chief aim of school-builders seemed to be economy. 
Hideousness was generally not dreaded, with the result that the youth of 
the country spent a large. proportion of their hours in their most impres- 
sionable years amid surroundings that did all that they could to stimu- 
late the depression caused by compulsory tasks, themselves none too con- 
genial. It would be interesting to discover how much of the hatred which 
many a man cherishes for algebra or the Latin declensions came from the 
subjects themselves and how much from the grisly interiors in which these 
subjects were taught. Even when beauty was considered and in some 


Fic. 169. New York, N. Y. Yankee Stadium. Osborn Engineering Company, Engineers. 


Fic. 170. Los AncEtes, Catir. Coliseum. ‘ohn and Donald B. Parkinson, Architects. 
187 


188 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


measure attained, little attention was paid to the practical side other than 
to have rooms large enough to accommodate the estimated number of 
pupils. 

Nowadays all this is changed. Designers are alive to the threefold 
necessity of beauty, practicality, and economy. Perforce the last has usu- 
ally imposed simplicity in design and material, but simplicity and beauty 
may go perfectly hand in hand, though they have not always done so. 
The modern American school, and especially the high school, is thus a 
new creation. Questions of communication have been studied as never 
before. The fire hazard has been nearly eliminated by means of wide 
corridors and safe and adequate exits. Modern heating and ventilating 
plants now provide a constant temperature and pure air in place of the 
old conditions of dusty, germ-laden atmosphere and variations of twenty 
degrees’ temperature between rooms or even in a single room. Lighting 
has been carefully studied and light is brought in from one side to desks, 
so arranged that it falls over the left shoulder of the pupil. Furniture 
has been made more attractive, as well as more practical, and interiors are 
treated in simple materials, but with agreeable textures and colours. 

The most difficult problems of school design involve the gymnasium 
and auditorium, large units in any modern school. The question is 
whether these units should be isolated from the rest of the building or 
centrally placed. There is an advantage in isolating them, as by putting 
them in separate wings in a plan and thus eliminating from the common 
schoolrooms the noise of the gymnasium and from the auditorium the 
noises of both. On the other hand, there is an advantage in having these 
units centrally placed so that classes may enter them from several sides 
and with the minimum loss of time and confusion. There is, of course, 
an obvious economical gain in combining the gymnasium and the audi- 
torium and, if necessary, separating the auditorium stage from the gym- 
nasium by means of sound-proof doors. 

As typical of the exterior appearance of the modern high chant we 
might select the one done at Greenfield, Ohio, by Mr. William B. Ittner 
(Fig. 171), probably the most influential figure in the modern develop- 
ment of school design. The general appearance suggests the English 
perpendicular style, or rather an adaptation of it to modern needs. The 
material is brick with a stone trim. The windows are placed frankly 


THE DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE 189 


where they are needed and in a way that satisfies the eye that they are 
correctly placed. There is a minimum of “ornament,” but fine propor- 
tions, fine textures, and discreet taste in the handling of economical but 
pleasant material. The result is a building that reveals its purpose in the 
frankest way, yet charms the eye. 

Mr. Ittner seems to have decided in Fee of the centrally placed 
auditorium and gymnasium, with the two units combined. His Goliad 
School at Galveston, Texas (Fig. 173), done in collaboration with De- 
Witt & Lemmon, shows a compact plan, with the cafeteria, stage, and com- 
bined auditorium and gymnasium running through its centre. These can 
thus be reached easily from every part of the building. The combination 
of auditorium and gymnasium is a great economy, as only rarely is there 
need of the larger auditorium space, and then the gymnasium floor is 
easily converted to the purposes of a hall. An adjustable, sound-proof 
screen divides the stage from the gymnasium. Courts, locker-rooms, and 
toilets flank the central units, insulating them from the corridors and class- 
rooms on the outer flanks of the building. The coal and boiler rooms are 
in a separate wing behind the gymnasium. It would be hard to imagine 
a saner or more satisfactory plan. The elevation (Fig. 172) shows the 
simplest treatment of cement and stucco harmonising perfectly with the 
architectural ideals of the district and offering the utmost in economy 
without the violation of good taste. | 

The school problem has been complicated by the easy, cheap, and 
rapid traffic communication of modern times and the consequent tendency 
to increase the number of pupils and the size of the plant. It is not un- 
usual to plan for twenty-five hundred or three thousand pupils, and St. 
Louis has recently completed two schools for an estimated enrolment of 
thirty-five hundred. It is a question, however, both educationally and 
architecturally, whether this does not pass the limit of maximum efh- 
ciency. An admirable example of the larger school is the East High 
School of Denver, Colo., by George H. Williamson. The plan (Fig. 
175) is H-shaped, with a large auditorium in the centre, preceded by a 
spacious lobby, with a stage at the back. The gymnasium is moved to a 
rear wing. The broad wings allow for double lines of classrooms with 
direct light. Such a plan is admirable, but requires a spacious area and is 
less economical than that of such a building as the Goliad School. The 


‘yanyr4p “sun “g uviniy 


*punoisyoeg 


Ul JooYydS AsevjzusWIA[y *-punosZe104q ul ;ooys¢ YS Ule[D A 22] prempy -“o1HO ‘a1a1dNagUy) 


TAT “OW 


gO 


I 


Goliad School. 


Fic. 172. Gatveston, TEXxAs. 
DeWitt & Lemmon, Associated. 


(OME ST ee - 
Scence 


Aupitoriun & GYMNASIUM 


Sonso’ 


CoRRIDOoR tw 


William B. Ittner, Architect ; 


CrassRm) 
eresore | 


CoRRIDOR Ow — \ tet 
Bs eal Wdaly 
Teak BMain | * oo 
Eiass Boon a “Crass Room 
Kiepeeaarven Resse | Pears Lae Ms ZrA30°~ Bins 
us = Ae . t- a1 [ ad 
a A 5, 
J ae, 
ema he 
Fiast Troon Piar : 
‘ Seava f° WJ 
Fic. 173. Gatveston, Texas. Goliad School. Willam B. Ittner, Architect; 


DeWitt &8 Lemmon, Associated. 
IgI 


Fic. 174. Dernver, Coto. 


4 : 
F 4 Towed 
* . 


peeks 

a ee | ce | ee 
High. School 

° 1o7 

S.] Typewriving Denver Colo. 

3 Geo. H. Williamson 


Architect, Denver 


Fic. 175. Denver, Coto. 


East High School. George H. Williamson, Architect. 


First Floor Dlan 


East High School. George H. Williamson, Architect. 
192 


THE DOMESTIC AND ACADEMIC ARCHITECTURE 193 


effect of the exterior (Fig. 174) is a little overpowering, but this is almost 
inevitable in a building of such scale. The proportions are excellent, how- 
ever, and the character of the building is properly scholastic, despite its 
monumental size. 

Progress in school design is thus keeping pace with progress in the 
other fields of architectural activity and the schools may even be consid- 
ered in the van of specialisation. That the ultimate and perfect solu- 
tion 1s reached we should not expect and the problem changes and rami- 
fies with advance in education. The creation of junior and senior high 
schools complicates the problem. The “platoon system” or “Work-Study- 
Play” organisation, now supported by many, places further responsibili- 
ties on the shoulders of the architect. The private boarding-school, with 
its arrangements of dormitories for the boys and houses for the masters, 
demands the skilful combination of many elements which can be ignored 
in the day-school. Above all, the architect must learn and has learned 
to collaborate with the head master. Close co-operation between archi- 
tect, trustees, and masters has produced the best examples of the modern 
schools, and it is significant that the most successful architects in this branch 
of the modern field have been the most generous and patient in their 
willingness to co-operate. 


IT] 
ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE 


Rive 


IT] 
ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE 


We have seen that the tendency of academic architecture is conser- 
vative. Even more so has been that of the ecclesiastic architecture of 
America. This need not surprise us. The Church has always been one 
of the most conservative forces in society. Most great religions, all radi- 
cal in their inception, have soon become rigidly conservative, and Chris- 
tianity has been no exception to the rule. So clearly is this revealed in 
religious architecture that some would exclude any discussion of it in a 
treatise on the architecture of to-day, holding that it has lost its hold on 
the people and represents only a reactionary persistence in repeating the 
dead formulas of the past. This position is extreme. We have inter- 
preted the architecture of to-day as the architecture that has recently been 
built and is being built to-day. There are plenty of devout people to 
whom religion is a living force in present-day society and, correspond- 
ingly, there are plenty of churches, recently built and being built, that 
testify to this fact. 

Artistically, they are often among the finest of our monuments. To 
omit them would not only be a slur on the spiritual force which produces 
them but would weaken our appreciation of American architecture. That 
their tendency is conservative, that their historical antecedents are quickly 
apparent, none will deny. This does not mean that they are unoriginal. 
If this were generally true, we should have to exclude, in a history of 
architecture, anything based upon a clearly marked historical precedent. 
Bramante, for example, would go unmentioned. A reductio ad absurdum 
of this sort shows what a mistake it would be, on account of our interest 
in modernism, in steel construction, in the vivid commercial building which 
afford perhaps the most interesting phenomena of our modern architec- 
ture, to ignore the churches, which are none the less one of the glories of 
modern work. 


197 


198 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


To appreciate them, we should compare them with some of the earlier 
attempts in America along the same lines. When we do this, when we 
make a careful study of, let us say, the most recent Gothic, we see that the 
modern designer has assimilated historic precedent and has learned to de- 
_ sign in a style rather than imitate it. The best modern Gothic no more 
imitates the Gothic of the Middle Ages than did Bramante’s St. Peter’s 
imitate the Basilica of Maxentius and the Pantheon on which it was based. 

It is nevertheless true that American church architecture has adhered 
closely to the styles. Of these the favourite has been Gothic, with a ten- 
dency to follow English forms more than French, though both have fur- 
nished inspiration for American work. The Gothic set in motion by the 
romantic revival survived the wave of classicism of the nineties and per- 
sisted in church architecture. Second in popularity has been the Colonial. 
Especially in New England, people reverted naturally to the Colonial 
type and built, and are building, classic churches of brick and limestone or 
brick and wood, based upon Colonial or early Republican precedents. The 
New England meeting-house was architecturally congruous, historically 
American, and based ultimately on the work of Gibbs, Wren, Jones, and 
others who it was felt designed especially with an eye to the needs of 
the Protestant ritual. This style often appears in the South, as well, and 
is by no means unknown in practically all parts of the country. 

Other styles have been used, however, with great success, and one can- 
not but feel that originality increases as the designers get away from 
Gothic and Colonial. Byzantine antecedents have begun to be influential 
and Romanesque forms, especially Lombard, are having a vogue. In the 
West and Southwest, as one might suppose, the Spanish missions have 
made their influence felt, and the Spanish style has appeared even more 
strongly and successfully in religious work than in secular. Even the 
strictly classic styles have been used for church work, and there have been 
interesting attempts on the part of the modernists to apply their canons 
of design to churches as well as to secular buildings. 

Denominational influences have played their part in determining the 
character of much of the work. The Colonial church is closely associated 
with Puritan New England. It is seldom imitated in modern times by 
the Church of Rome. In America, as in England, Gothic, too, had been 
pre-empted by Protestants and the Roman Church tended to avoid it, 


ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE 199 


though its attitude in this is now undergoing a clearly marked change. 
Other more modern and less orthodox sects sought to preserve their archi- 
tectural independence by using other forms. Thus the Christian Science 
Temple is usually of classic design and such sects as the Theosophists 
built templar constructions which would have no association with Puritan- 
ism, with England, or with Rome. The Jews naturally avoid styles which 
suggest Western Christianity and use for their synagogues semi-oriental, 
nearer Eastern forms, based really upon Byzantine, which Solomon prob- 
ably would have considered strange, but which call up association with the 
great temple at Jerusalem. An amusing treatise might be written on de- 
nominational reflections in modern architecture. 

In our review we can call attention to a very few only of the thou- 
sands of fine monuments which embody the various genres, and perhaps 
it will be clearest to begin with the Colonial, or Georgian, churches. These, 
from the historic point of view, we can perhaps consider the most Ameri- 
can. They can be treated with a brevity that ill reflects their charm, for, 
as a type, they are easily understood. We reproduce first one of the se- 
verest of examples, St. Paul’s Church, at Newburyport, Mass. (Fig. 176), 
by Perry, Shaw & Hepburn. It is in a late seventeenth-century style, 
plain, well proportioned, and avoiding any parade of the orders except 
in the portico, so small as to be almost a hood, and in the belfry. Such a 
building well expresses the stern religion of our Puritan forebears and 
fits with perfect aptitude its New England environment. 

Of a somewhat later and more ornate expression is the “meeting- 
house,” the First Congregational Church, at Lyme, Conn. (Fig. 177), 
by Ernest Greene. Here we find a portico with a temple front and a 
gracefully designed tower, starting square and carried, in the fashion of 
the design of Sir Christopher Wren, to a graceful, many-sided polygon 
with a slender spire. The blocklike body of the church, however, with 
its double row of small windows and its unobtrusively projecting chim- 
ney, shows that we are still viewing a New England meeting-house. The 
interior (Fig. 178) is simple, but not bare; galleried, chastely white in 
colour, and filled with high-backed pews. It is charmingly proportioned 
and is at once old-fashioned, spacious, and worshipful. Indeed, if we 
hark back to the actual examples of fine eighteenth-century American 
work which we reviewed in the beginning of our discussion of American 


"yaq1tyIsp Sauaady ssausy &Q yingey 
yoiny?) [euoneseiZu07> IsIIq¥ ="NNOD “AWAT °)/T “OT 


° 


*SIIONLY IAL 
er Seed as 


‘uangdaH] GS) moys ‘K1sag 
“SSVJ] “LUOdAUNAMAN °O/T “OLY 


200 


ee ener 


*JIOPIY IAP 


¢ 


IUIadD Jsaudy KG Yingay 


yoinyy) [euoljese13u07 ISI 


"NNOZ) 


¢ 


IWAT 


SLT 


OL] 


J 


20 


*sp9aqiyI4p “UOSNS49q G) UVAsD 
*ydiny) uolUyA [e13Ua7 


‘IIVMAVH ‘ATNIONOPY “OST “OT 


“njnjouo Fy ‘orpnig sure AM aut &4 ydvssojoyg 


"sjaaniyI4p “YInNNwYS G) aZpyooy 
*yomnys) S[NOS [TY “DC ‘SNOLONTIHSVAA “61 T “OTT 


202 


ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE 203 


architecture, it is hard to believe that this is not one more true Colonial 
example and one of the best. 

For a still more sophisticated example, we may look at All Souls’, in 
Washington (Fig. 179), by Coolidge & Shattuck. Here -the building’ is 
on a really monumental scale. The portico is deep and dignified. The 
tower and spire, large in scale, astride the roof behind the portico, re- 
mind one of such a building as St. Martin’s in the Fields, London, by 
James Gibbs. The interior, too, with its broad arches, barrel and groin 
vaulted ceilings, galleries, and entablature blocks, is pure Georgian and 
reminiscent of the best Colonial work. It is the polished and polite style 
which aristocratic America, in the second half of the eighteenth century, 
had learned from England, only in the twentieth century the designer 
has access to more original material, both in books and photographs. This 
is the type that spread far and wide over America. It is interesting to 
see it, for example, surrounded by palms and exotic vegetation, in the Cen- 
tral Union Church at Honolulu, Hawaii (Fig. 180), designed by Ralph 
Adams Cram. There is no real incongruity in such a building in a semi- 
tropical country and its presence there bespeaks the American possession 
of the Island. It is only one more of the innumerable cases of architec. _ 
ture vigorously voicing history. 

Natural as the Georgian style may seem, it has never seriously rivalled 
in popularity the Gothic. A thousand associations make people feel that 
the Gothic is the great church style. As a result, America is “covered 
with a fair mantle of churches”; some, it must be confessed, fairer than 
others, but many of the modern ones showing a grasp of the style of 
which we can well be proud. They include all types from small parish 
churches to ambitious cathedrals and, while they show an assimilation of 
_ historic precedent, they cannot be said to be entirely unoriginal. In any 
case, they are much in demand and as long as this is so they will continue 
to be built. We can congratulate oursélves, therefore, that they are built 
so well. 

As usual, it is hard to select illustrations, when the material is so em- 
barrassingly rich. For the modest type of country parish church, we 
might look at All Saints’, in Peterborough, N. H. (Figs. 181, 182), an- 
other building by R. A. Cram. The style which inspired it was early. 
We sense that we are not far from Romanesque. The openings are few 


*sp9agtyIAp “UOSNS 4 G) UWv4s‘) "sqJajtyIap SUOSNS4aq G) Wv4D 
*‘yoinys) siuleg [TY “HN ‘OvosuaLag ‘ZRT “Oly "yomnyy) Sswules [TY “HN SOwosusLag [ST “OM 


af -[ jnvd &q y¢vssoj0yg 4agey *f nog &G ysrsio14 ¢ 
1 f qh LI i4 4d 


ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE 20s 


and small, the heavy lantern almost Romanesque despite its Gothic detail. 
We feel here the influence of Saxon and Norman, as well as Gothic, but 
imitation of none. The interior is simple almost to bareness, with thick 
walls, wooden roof, heavy arches, and vigorously splayed windows. By 
mass and proportion, the designer has won his effect and we feel the hon- 
est country parish church in its lines. “Una bella vilanella,” Michelangelo 
might have called it. 

The city produces another type of chapel, modest in scale, but lavish 
in the study of ornament and the rich but refined use of material. A good 
example is the Leslie Lindsey Memorial, in Boston (Figs. 183, 184), by 
Allen & Collens. Here again the design has an English flavour—one 
might almost call the style a purified curvilinear—but the Gothic vocabu- 
lary is used to express the designer’s own ideas and not to reiterate any 
given formula of the past. 

An exquisitely proportioned piece of Gothic is the First Baptist Church, 

at Pittsburgh, Pa. (Fig. 185), by Cram, Goodhue & Ferguson. As one 
studies this monumental work, one feels more and more that American 
Gothic has originality and beauty and that the modern work shows an 
understanding and deliberate deviation from historic form thoroughly 
assimilated. This impression will be fortified tremendously by the ex- 
amination of the Chapel of the Intercession, in New York (Cram, Good- 
hue & Ferguson, Architects) (Fig. 187). Here the material is varie- 
gated and carefully studied. It is unlike any Old World example. The 
tracery is somewhere between curvilinear and perpendicular. The interior 
is wooden roofed with great trussed timbers richly ornamented in colour. 
We know that all medizval] timber roofs were coloured, and plenty of 
archeological researches have been made and their results incorporated 
with most damaging effect in modern work. The late Mr. Goodhue prob- 
ably made archeological researches, but he designed his colour not to be 
correct so much as to be brilliant, rich, and harmonious. He thus got it 
correct in spirit, though whether it be correct in fact the writer does not 
know, nor care. The Intercession is a superb example of the way the 
modern designer has boldly, skilfully, and sensitively attained the beauty 
of old Gothic. It would be less ungracious than absurd to accuse him of 
unoriginality. 3 

As a final example of the Gothic church, apart from the cathedral, 


"SqIaqtyIAP ‘$u9zJO7) G) uIP 
:yoinys Jenuewwy 


‘jadeys [euoweyy Aespury atjsoy 
“SSVI ‘NOLSOG “FRI “DIY 


"spaqtyIa4p ‘Su9{J07) G) Ua 
>youny’) jenuewury 


*jedeys [euouwayy Avspury otsory 
"SSVI ‘NOLSOG “ERT “OL 


206 


“SIIIILYIAPY 


c 


uOsnSLIY GY INYPOOL 


‘Uvd’) 


‘seWOY, “IS JO YINYD *L*N “AXOX MIN “98 


I 


“OI 
“SLIYIOLT SIAN (CO) 


"$429J1Y IAP SUISNBAIY G) ANYPOOD SULDAT) 
‘yoinyy jsadeg jsiy “Vg SHOUNESLIIG “CST ‘Oly 


“Saqv1IOsSsSp anypooy yg fo Kksasnory 


207 


"soagiyoap “UOSNS49.q G) NY pOOy SuvsD *74291YI4P “UOSNS4Aq GC) anYpooy ‘uiv47) 
sewoyy *3§ Jo yoInyy, “A *N SMYOX MIN' “SRT “OLA *UOISS3019}UT 9Y} Jo Jadvy> “XK °N SAYOX MIN “LRT ‘OW 
*y401) Yauuay Aq ydvidoj0yg y4ojy yrauuay 4q ydos3oq04q 


I a crn cere ceils 


ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE 209 


we may look at St. Thomas’, New York, by Cram, Goodhue & Fer- 
guson * (Fig. 186). In this case, the influence is frankly flamboyant. 
The exterior has the lightness and grace which goes with that style and 
is a consequent dream of beauty. The designer was bold enough and 
sensitive enough to disregard the purist critics who proclaimed that the 
only good Gothic was done in the thirteenth century, and frankly rec- 
ognised the possibilities of flamboyant. Again, however, he varied con- 
sis ently from flamboyant, so that his building has no appearance of an 
historic problem in a given style. The interior (Fig. 188) is simple and 
spacious, with large windows, broad quadripartite vaults, and the quiet 
verticality which suggests an earlier phase of Gothic and contrasts with 
the late character of the window tracery. 

We must not think that Gothic is the only style, however, which has 
been adapted to modern church needs. Just as Richardson was tempted 
into the field of Romanesque, so modern designers have worked in that 
field with (we say it with due deference and trepidation) as great, or 
even greater, success. Let us note such a work as the little church of 
St. John of Nepomuk, in New York City (Fig. 189), by John V. Van 
Pelt. It is, of course, very archxological in character, being derived di- 
rect from north Italian and specifically Lombard Romanesque. It is, 
however, entirely charming, the designer having attained by a judicious 
and feignedly haphazard intermingling of stone and brick the picturesque- 
ness and fine surface of an old original. His proportions suggest the 
original but, it must be noted, are far finer than in many an original of 
the twelfth century in Lombardy. Of a somewhat different type is the 
parish church of St. John, in Cambridge, Mass. (Fig. 190), by Magin- 
nis & Walsh. Here again the forms are Lombard, but with more Byzan- 
tine feeling. Colour is used tastefully, but not lavishly, and, although 
one is reminded immediately of Lombard work, one can feel originality 
as well. The church is Roman Catholic, and this firm, and others, have 
been very successful in adapting the type to the needs of the Church of 
Rome and thus differentiating it from its Protestant neighbours, Colonial 
and Gothic. We must be satisfied with these two examples, remember- 


* It is not easy, when a work comes from this office, to be sure of the real designer. 
Both Cram and Goodhue were masters of Gothic, though with different styles. I believe 
St. Thomas’ is largely the work of Goodhue. 


. 


1éS. 


Photograph by John Wallace Giil 


V. Van Pelt, Architect. 


Fohn 


John of Nepomuk 


St. 


6 


New York, N. 


Fic. 189 


& Walsh, Architects, 


15 


. 


17n 


Mag 


St. John’s Church. 
Io 


Mass. 


5) 


CAMBRIDGE 


Fic. 190. 


2 


ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE 211 


ing that they represent a large and impressive volume of work of the type. 

A church that is more generally Romanesque in character, but much 
more original than anything else, is St. Bartholomew’s, in New York 
(Fig. 191), by B. G. Goodhue. Here the architect was forced to design 
a church and incorporate with it features of the old church of St. Bartholo- 
mew’s—especially McKim’s fine portico—which the parish wanted to save 
for artistic and sentimental reasons. Frankly retaining this as a project- 
ing narthex, he built behind a round-arched church in harmony with tt. 
For material, he used a pink brick, intermingled with bits of cream colour 
and with a white trim. By unerringly skilful composition of material he 
got one of the finest effects in colour and texture which American archi- 
tecture has attained. The proportions, too, are unusually fine. For the 
interior (Fig. 192), he used an enormous barrel vault of brick, skilfully 
keeping all the pews in the nave and reducing the aisles to lateral pas- 
sages. Not a seat exists which has not an unobstructed view of the chan- 
cel. Above the aisles are galleries with lofty transverse barrel vaults. 
The design of St. Bartholomew’s is so new that many laymen, pre- 
ferring historically correct Gothic, have misunderstood and condemned it. 
It is nevertheless one of the most perfect examples of combined modern- 
ism and sanity, and we venture to predict that it will come into its own as 
one of the most beautiful, as well as constructive, of American designs. 
With the connoisseurs it has already done so. 

The strictly classical, as opposed to the native Colonial and Geor- 
gian types, has not been especially popular in American church architec- 
ture. It has been used most frequently by other than the Protestant sects 
which have felt that the other styles had been pre-empted by Protestants. 
The Roman Catholics especially, familiar with the use of the classical 
styles for church architecture in thousands of examples on the Continent 
of Europe, have often used the style here; not, we feel, with any con- 
spicuous originality. The prolixity of American Gothic has challenged 
the ingenuity of American designers to a refinement and originality that . 
has not been called out in the classic ecclesiastical style. Classic work has 
been more satisfied with correctness and a close relation to European mod- 
els. A stately and very typical example of this work is the Chapel of 
St. Catherine, at Spring Lake, N. J. (Fig. 193), by Horace Trumbauer. 
It is in the classic style of Europe, suggesting the return to stricter models 


"Japiyr4p “any pooy *h wvsysag JajtyI4p ‘9NYpO0y “yh wvsseg 
"Yomnyy) Ss MowopoyssEd "IG “X'N “MYOX MAN ‘Z6T ‘Ol "Yosny S,MewojouzEg 3G *L*N “AYOX MIN “IGT ‘Ol 


“Saypiossp anypooy 5 ‘g fo Ksatanory 


*saqv1I0ssp anypooy "5g fo Ksaanozy 


sere my A - 


212 


Fic. 193. Sprinc Lake, N. J. Exterior of St. Catherine’s Chapel. Horace Trumbauer§ Architect. 


Photograph by Rombach & Groene. 
Fic. 194. Cincinnati, OHIO. Temple Ben Israel. Tietig & Lee, Architects. 
213 


Photograph by Prombriien 


Fic. 195. Cutcaco, It. 


Fic. 196. Crtcaco, IL. 


Isaiah Temple. 


Isaiah Temple. 
214 


Alfred §. Alschuler, Architect. 


Alfred §. Alschuler, Architect. 


ood 


ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE are 


after the wave of Italian baroque had spent its fury in the latter part of 
the eighteenth century. 

Occasionally the classic style has been taken over for synagogues. A 
dignified example is the Temple Ben Israel, in Cincinnati, Ohio (Fig. 
194), by Tietig & Lee. Here we have the rich forms of late Renaissance 
classicism, with suggestions from Labrouste and other free classicists of 
the nineteenth century. Again, however, we feel that the building is 
more correct and conservative than interesting. The spark which pro- 
duced the Gothic of Goodhue and Cram, of the Philadelphia architects 
and others, is absent. 

Generally the Jews have shown more originality in the forms which 
they have preferred. For obvious reasons of association, these have been 
especially of a near-Eastern or semi-Byzantine character. Sometimes they 
have shown a complete lack of assimilation of the styles imitated and 
atrocious aberrations have been the result. In other cases, good architects 
have been employed and the buildings have attained not only original- 
ity, but impressiveness of mass and beauty of composition. As one exam- 
ple, we reproduce the Isaiah Temple at Chicago (Figs. 195, 196), by 
Alfred S. Alschuler, having in it almost as much suggestion of Aquitinian 
Romanesque as Byzantine. The interior, with its huge dome on penden- 
tives, its Byzantine detail, its galleries, and its round-arched windows, is 
admirably adapted to the Judaic ritual. It fulfils its purpose, avoids any 
suggestion of the Christian Church, and gives the Jew a religious archi- 
tecture which he can frankly consider his own. 

Another restless sect architecturally has been that of the Church of 
Christ Scientist. It has striven to house itself in a type of building which 
would differentiate it from the older religious beliefs, but with more 
practical than artistic success. As far back as 1905, when Carrére & 
Hastings designed the First Church of Christ Scientist on Central Park 
West, New York (Fig. 197), we can trace the attempt at a Christian Sci- 
entific architectural originality. Here we have the general mass and sil- 
houette of a Georgian church, with the ornament and superficial expres- 
sion of the free classic of the nineteenth century. The result is originality 
and, as desired, the church is “different,” but it is by no means zsthetically 
happy, even though designed by a famous and able firm. More recently, 
the Christian Scientists have turned to the classic domed type. A good 


From “The American Architect.” 


Fic. 197. New Yorx, N. Y. First Church of Christ, Scientist. Carrére €? Hastings, Architects. 


Photograph by Paul J. Weber. 


Fic. 198. New York, N. Y. Third Church of Christ, Scientist, Park Avenue. 
Delano &8 Aldrich, Architects. 


216 


ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE 217 


example is the Third Church of Christ Scientist, on Park Avenue, New 
York (Fig. 198), by Delano & Aldrich. These buildings belong again, 
however, to the type of the uninspired “correct.” The charm of Ameri- 
can Gothic and Georgian, the impressiveness of American monumental 
architecture, the originality and imagination of American commercial build- 
ing; all seem to have passed them by. One feels that the sect is young and 
its architecture is still in the stage of experiment. 

As we might expect, some charming church designs have been done 
in the Spanish styles in the West and Southwest. These run all the way 
from the simplest “mission” chapels to great structures which embody all 
the glitter and theatric charm of full-fledged Spanish baroque. 

A perfect example is the gorgeous Episcopal Cathedral of La San- 
tissima ‘T'rinidad, designed by the late B. G. Goodhue, for Havana, Cuba 
(Fig. 199). Here the forms are of the richest and the truest. The 
sharp contrasts of plain walls and florid fields of exuberant baroque orna- 
ment are as interesting as any work in Spain. The building is not large 
in scale, but it tells as large on account of its monumental composition, 
at the same time charming the eye with the wealth and profusion of the 
ornament. Designed by the greatest master of American Spanish, it must 
typify for us a host of monuments which many talented Americans have 
designed and are still designing in appropriate districts in the United States. 

Before we leave the subject of American church architecture, we must 
devote two or three paragraphs especially to the cathedral. Not many 
cathedrals are being built to-day. A trite commonplace is that this is not 
a cathedral-building age. Nevertheless, cathedrals are occasionally built, 
and on a huge scale. Civic and national pride plays its part in this, as it 
did in the Middle Ages, and it is healthy that this should be so. In the 
Middle Ages, however, the cathedral was practically the sole architec- 
tural expression of the wealth, the culture, and the civic pride of the citi- 
zens. Now it 1s rivalled in this respect by many civic monuments and 
especially great commercial structures which we must admit—whether we 
like it or not—mean more to the average citizen than do churches. Hence 
the correctness of the commonplace. 

In cathedral, as in other work, the favourite style has been Gothic, 
though this is not universal. The scale has often varied, but generally 
when we think of a cathedral we think of a building of generous pro- 
portions. 


Courtesy of B.G. Coodkus Associates. 


Fic. 199. Havana, Cusa, Trinity Cathedral. Bertram G. Goodhue, Architect. 


pace 


© National Cathedral Foundation. 


Fic. 200. Wasuineton, D.C. Episcopal Cathedral: Design for West Front. 
Henry Vaughan and George F. Bodley, Architects. Work now being carried on by Frohman, 
Robb & Little, Architects. 


218 


ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE 219 


A very elaborate and beautiful Gothic cathedral, in process of erec- 
tion, 1s the Episcopal one at Washington, D. C., by Henry Vaughan and 
George F. Bodley. The facade, as planned (Fig. 200), reminds one of 
French rather than English work, though the general character of the 
building is English. The interior (Fig. 201), with its longitudinal ridge 
rib and network of tiercerons, is inspired by English decorated, though 
the detail has not the floridity which we associate with the decorated style. 
The east end takes the circular form of the French chevet, nervous and 
graceful, and very un-English (Fig. 202) in character. It is hemmed 
in by a ring of double flying buttresses. For some reason these are built 
clear of the church, as piers, with a passageway of lawn between them and 
the apsidal wall, a feature more original than logical.* It does not spoil, 
however, the exquisite grace of the apsidal silhouette. 

Although not technically speaking a cathedral, under this head we 
should mention the proposed shrine of the Immaculate Conception, at 
Washington, D. C., by Maginnis & Walsh, with F. V. Murphy associated. 
Here, for reasons we have sketched, the Gothic style is abandoned and the 
great pile is composed in a frankly Byzantine style. In elevation (Fig. 
203) it has a portico and lofty nave, reminiscent of Romanesque. The 
arches are round, the detail Byzantine. Over the crossing is a nicely ad- 
justed dome on pendentives, low, as in the sixth-century Byzantine style, 
yet not so low as to be unpleasantly saucerlike. It is lighted by windows in 
the drum. The interior (Fig. 204) has spacious barrel vaults, domes on 
pendentives, and walls decorated with mosaics. As in the work of all of 
the very best firms, though the archeological debt is clear-cut, there is no 
feeling of lifelessness nor copyism, and here again America is to have a 
monument of which it can be honestly proud. 

By far the most elaborate piece of cathedral-building in America is, 
of course, St. John the Divine in New York. Begun many years ago, 
like so many of its medizval predecessors it has suffered changes of style 
in its construction. ‘The earliest architect, C. Grant La Farge, announced 
the deliberate intent of keeping away from the archeological point of 
view and striving for originality and something that was truly Ameri- 
can. Some of his details were Gothic, others Romanesque. The massive 


* There is, of course, precedent for these, especially in the English Gothic chapter. 
houses. 


"Sy9aqtyI4p “9NtT & 9q0y SuvuyoLy kQ UO patssv7 Sutag MOU ¥40 YY 
"syoajiyIap “kappog “4 334005 puv uvysnyy kiuazy "spoanyo4p ‘kapog “xy 2840a5 puv uvysnyy Kauazy <q uSisaq jouts1uC, 
‘Terpoyied [edoosidy “dq ‘NOLONIHSVAA ‘Z0Z “OI “JOLI9UT *Te1poyiwD [edoosidy "dD *q ‘NOLONIHSVMA ‘10% ‘O14 
“UOIIDPUND YT [v4LpaYyID{) JDUOYY NT CO) 


& 

¥ 

@ 
; 


Fic. 203. Wasuineton, D.C. Proposed Shrine of the Immaculate Conception: Model. 
Maginnis & Walsh, Architects; F. V. Murphy, Associated. 


Fic. 204. Wasuincton, D. C. Proposed Shrine of the Immaculate Conception: Interior. 
Maginnis & Walsh, Architects; F. V. Murphy, Assoctated. 


oie mt | 


aE 


lsihcsthanempecmathatuad duit ed ASE pent 


§ 
‘ 
‘ 
é 


Fic. 206. New Yorx, N.Y. Cathedral of St. John the Divine 


Cathedral of St. John the Divine 


Heins & La Farge, Architects. 


New York, N. Y. 


Present Choir. 


Fic. 205. 


Architect’s Sketch for Remodelling of the Choir and Apse. 


Cram & Ferguson, Architects. 


ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE oan 


colonnade of cylindrical columns which separate the apse from the ambu- 
latory (Fig. 205) suggests the great east end of Romanesque Cluny. The 
low apsidal vault of brick was more Byzantine than Romanesque or Gothic. 
The interior was a stylistic ragout or a clever and individual piece of origi- 
nality according to the taste and opinion of the observer. It was, how- 
ever, bitterly criticised, we suspect especially by those whose opinions were 
formed more by books and theories than the evidence of their eyes: ‘I’o 
the writer, though lawless as regards historic precedent, the present (i. e., 
as yet unaltered) interior is one of the most impressive in Christendom. 

For good or ill, however, the first designs for St. John fell before 
the insistent American cry for Gothic as church architecture. The earlier 
designers were dismissed and Ralph Adams Cram was employed to re- 
study the whole problem. That he will create a magnificent building 
none can doubt. Whether it will be finer, or as fine as the one originally 
planned, none will ever know. That it will be consistently and truly Gothic, 
as far as compatible with the use of the present structure (apse, choir, and 
crossing), might have been assumed and is proved by the architect’s pub- 
lished drawings. | 

The present plans for St. John call for an enormous five-aisled 
cathedral (Figs. 207, 208). The front, more French than English, will 
reflect in a logical way the fivefold division of the interior plan. The 
five-aisled plan, however, calls for a double clerestory, which is not to be 
reflected in the facade. Over the crossing is to be a huge lantern, crowned 
with an openwork spire, on a scale rivalling, if not overpowering, the great 
towers of the western facade. The sexpartite vaulting of the interior 
(Fig. 206) is to be reflected with admirable logic in the alternately large 
and small flying buttresses on the exterior, the large piers responding to 
the major ribs, the small to the intermediate. The apse is to be raised 
(Fig. 207) and given a steeper and more graceful profile. The non- 
Gothic ornament of the earlier building: is as far as possible to be sup- 
pressed. The work is proceeding apace. By a mighty effort, the Epis- 
copal Church has launched a drive, which promises to be successful, to 
raise fifteen millions of dollars to complete the cathedral. Albeit we are 
not in a cathedral-building age, the fact that a building costing so many 
millions is in course of construction is a tribute to the religious spirit, pride, 
energy, and generosity of the American people. We can argue that the 


Fic. 207. New York, N. Y. Cathedral of St. John the Divine: Sketch of Completed Design. 
Cram &8 Ferguson, Architects. 


Fic. 208. New York, N. Y. Cathedral of St. John the Divine: Projected Facade. 
Cram & Ferguson, Architects. 


224 


"S49aqtYyI4p “UOSNS4IT GY UDAD 
“PaT[spowmey eq OF sy I] sv asdy jo sJ01NID}xY 


*OUTAICT 942 UYOL “3g Jo [eIpoyIey °T *N SHNOT MIN. 


OIG “OM 


“SIIONYIAY ‘9B4VT VT) suiayy -asdy Juasaig 
*SUTATIC] 243 UYoL “3g Jo TespsyIeD *A *N 


“AYOX MIN 60% ‘Ol 


“Kaasa yy * { 249U10]UP ©) 


225 


226 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


cathedral has no place in American life. The reply is that it is in our 
midst. The reviewer of modern American architecture who overlooked 
St. John the Divine would be either biassed or blind. 

No buildings show more clearly the wedding of American taste to 
classical architecture than those civic and monumental. As we. have seen, 
this was made almost inevitable by the country’s architectural history and 
especially by the popularity and success of the Early Republican style. 
Latrobe, Bulfinch, Walters, and many others so popularised the domed 
structure in civic work that the average American has come to feel that 
one can scarcely govern correctly unless from under a dome. The mush- 
room growth of domes in every State of the Union has not been entirely 
happy. The sophisticated are getting tired of them. Many embody pom- 
posity rather than impressiveness, and too often domes have been raised 
by uninspired designers, feebly copying earlier successful buildings, but 
spoiling their detail and proportion in an attempt to avoid plagiarism. 
Nevertheless, the domed capitol has become almost a convention in mod- 
ern American architecture and some of the best have shown great beauty 
and a haunting impressiveness. As in the case of other types, it is most 
noteworthy and encouraging that, despite the many fine examples which 
occur throughout our architectural history, the most modern work has 
shown the highest average of taste and ability. 

We can view the question squarely by examining a few specimens of 
the American State Capitol. Though built in 1903 and therefore by no 
means a new building, the Rhode Island State House (Fig. 211), by 
McKim, Mead & White, is a typical example of the modern State capi- 
tol. All such designs go back in inspiration to the Capitol at Washing- 
ton and thence to the great European examples of domed architecture 
from Bramante’s time. What strikes the eye first is the beauty of pro- 
portion. With a little study, however, we see that what distinguishes 
this building from many of its prototypes is the chastity of its design and 
the refinements of its detail. This is enhanced by the material, marble, 
of which it is composed. That refinement of taste, so often condemned by 
our Continental colleagues as reactionary conservatism, was the inevitable 
result of the Early Republican style, which first taught monumental archi- 
tecture to the United States, and of the revolt against the vagaries and 
stupidities of Victorian romanticism in America. For a civic building, Amer- 


Fic. 212. Sr. Paut, Minn. Minnesota State Capitol. Cass Gilbert, Architect. 
Pets, 


Photograph by John Wallace Gillies. 
Fic. 213. Maprson, Wis. Wisconsin State Capitol. Geo. B. Post & Sons, Architects. 


Fic. 214. Maptson, Wis. Wisconsin State Capitol: Plan. Geo. B. Post & Sons, Architects. 
228 


ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE 229 


ica—both lay and professional—demanded not only power, but restraint. 
The Rhode Island State House embodied both. 

This domical type persisted, and an exhaustive review of our State 
capitols would lead to redundancy. The Rhode Island State House 1S, 
comparatively speaking, on a small scale. That at St. Paul, Minn. (Fig. 
212), by Cass Gilbert, impresses one as large. Although certainly not 
unrefined, it has not the same striking purity that is so noticeable in Rhode 
Island. Its historical debts are more apparent to the designs for the 
Capitol at Washington and, in the dome especially, to St. Peter’s in 
Rome. The far-flung wings are impressive, the absence of a pediment 
beneath the dome happy, and the dome itself a most inspiring vertical. 
Here again we meet the question of the propriety of a definite historical 
inspiration. Most would admit that the Minnesota State Capitol is beau- 
tiful; many will deny its originality and reiterate the fear that American 
architecture is being stifled by dependence upon the art of the past. We 
must consider the charge, but remember at the same time that a similar 
fear would have prevented Shakspere from writing Romeo and Juliet, or 
Leonardo from painting the Virgin of the Rocks. 

Examples might be multiplied, but a few tell the story as well as 
many. We reproduce the Wisconsin State Capitol, at Madison (Fig. 
213), by George B. Post & Sons. Here we have a note of originality in 
plan (Fig. 214). The building is in the form of a compact Greek cross, 
the crossing crowned with a lofty dome and the arms bound by exedre. 
In actual elevation, the dome, with its lofty drum and attic, seems a little 
overpowering. It is undeniably impressive, however, and especially so 
when lighted at night. 

Oftentimes in the newer capital cities conditions are such that an archi- 
tect can plan not only the capitol building, but an entire capitol group. 
Some of our older capitals, especially in New England, are cursed with 
mid-nineteenth-century buildings, from which they cannot rid themselves, 
and these in turn are crowded by structures which it is not economical to 
remove. In the West, however, in many more youthful sites, foresight 
and energy have prepared for coherent capitol groups. As an interest- 
ing example, we might select the scheme made by Wilder & White for 
the State Capitol buildings at Olympia, Wash. (Fig. 215). Here the de- 
signers were blessed with an interesting site. They could place their build- 


"sq2aqtyr4p “aiy yy &) 4apjtyy *ANOID joyldesy) “HSV SVIAWAIQ ‘CTZ OI 4 


cc PINYILP UDINIIUP ,, 742 MOLT 


ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE 231 


ings on an eminence, further beautified by an artificial lake cut off by 
dams from the sound, and giving the group almost the appearance of an 
acropolis. As usual, the central building was domed and designed to tower 
above the others, which were skilfully placed with reference to it. The 
ensemble is unusually happy. The large means necessary for such a scheme 
were available through the setting apart, long ago, of State land for State 
purposes. Such a work can thus be put through without taxation. 

The most interesting recent competition for a State capitol was that 
for the Nebraska buildings. Many interesting and beautiful designs were 
submitted. The competition was won, however, by a scheme which broke 
sharply with the past. Bertram Grosvenor Goodhue submitted a design 
frankly modern and closely related to the trend of modernistic architec- 
tural expression in the Scandinavian countries. Eschewing the classic vo- 
cabulary, using forms that were new without fearing an occasional resem- 
blance to forms that were old, alive to the suggestions in design brought 
about by the use of steel and the tremendous verticality of much Ameri- 
can commercial work, Mr. Goodhue designed a low mass of buildings, 
telling as one story, with an immense and severe portico in the centre and 
an enormous tower dominating the whole (Figs. 216, 218). The win- 
dows are rectangular and unadorned with any enframements, classic or 
otherwise. ‘The detail of the main portal is as original and simple as it 
is massive. The great tower, crowned with a cupola, is slashed with ver- 
tical openings which broadcast its steel construction. 

The scheme was a bold one; its acceptance by the jury bold. Usually 
juries are most conservative in such affairs. In this case, the jury selected 
the boldest design, and we can applaud it, since the design is very beau- 
tiful. For America, it is ultramodern. The building depends for its 
effect on mass and proportion and these are so nicely adjusted as to be a 
delight to the eye. The central tower is a paradox, for it is both massive 
and soaring, carrying our eyes upward as it impresses us with its bulk. 
The feeling of modernism is carried consistently throughout. The de- 
tail of the supreme court, for example (Fig. 217), is entirely modern, 
though it is designed with taste and skill so that it gives anything but the 
expression of being by one whose chief motive was to be new. ‘The rela- 
tion between this and the modernist movement in Scandinavia we have 
already stated, and it is so marked that many would call Goodhue’s work 


‘auyI4p “anypood *H upusag “joyldeD 2381 VYSeIQ®N “AIN ‘NIOONTT ‘Q[Z ‘Ol 


“Sajo10ssp anypooy *y*g fo ksHanory 


2 


23 


Photograph by L. R. Bostwick. 


Fic. 217. Lincotn, Nes. Nebraska State Capitol: Supreme Court Room. 
Bertram G. Goodhue, Architect. 


Fic. 218. Lincotn, Nes. Nebraska State Capitol: Plan. 
Bertram G. Goodhue, Architect. 


233 


*utdany sant kq umvaql “Pa2sIIAdy Wy ssnoPFy{ 


“viadQ pure Aivaqry] oy3 Jo suonisog ay3 pasodoig Mon sy ree tert ute ‘OL 


“pasodoig A][eulsu¢ se 913U99 SIA «“AITVD SOOSIONVEY NVS “07% ‘OIA WH A315 


23 


San, ocrnmnmnidnnnriomannnnee 


See 


gases 


ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE Ba 


up to date rather than original. With this we have nothing to do. We 
can point out one striking difference between this work and the vast ma- 
jority of the productions of Teutonic modernism. Despite its massive- 
ness, its simplicity, its avoidance of a classic vocabulary, its newness, Good- 
hue’s building has refinement. The same quality that we associate with 
American classicism we find present in this great monument of American 
modernism. What the Nebraska State Capitol will mean for the future 
is pure guesswork. It may be an isolated phenomenon caused by the spe- 
cial interest of one man of genius, or it may break for all time the classic 
trend in similar State buildings. In any case, if this type. of building con- 
tinues and, at the same time, the new forms persist in the American tradi- 
tion of harmony of proportion and refinement, we need not fear the future. 
A review of the American State capitol buildings suggests immedi- 
ately the topic of municipal and town halls. Some of these, in the larger 
cities, rival the capitol buildings in scale and magnificence. Others are 
very modest and are closer to the realm of domestic architecture than 
monumental. As an example of the more imposing type, we may look at 
the huge City Hall of San Francisco (Fig. 219), by Bakewell & Brown. 
Here, again, we have the favourite domed type, with a central pavilion in 
the form of a Roman temple, flanked by Doric colonnades on a high base- 
ment, that remind one of Perrault’s competition drawings for the south 
facade of the Louvre. The dome, on a high drum, is delicately profiled 
and has an unusually aspiring lantern. The exterior is majestic and se- 
vere, the interior far more ornate. The designers have drawn upon a 
_ baroque vocabulary to get the richest and most palatial interior effects. 
In connection with the City Hall, San Francisco is planning and has 
largely put through a majestic civic centre (Fig. 220). This represents 
another very happy tendency in American architecture. We have seen 
one example of it in the group planned at Olympia. The San Francisco 
plans include a great square in front of the City Hall, and the develop- 
ment of an axis which runs obliquely into the important traffic artery of 
Market Street. Right and left of this axis are grouped an auditorium, an 
opera-house, a library, and similar buildings for the education and enter- 
tainment of the citizens. Planned together, as a unified group, each is 
able to set off the others and itself receives dignity from them. Through- 
out America such civic centres are being planned in a number of cities and 


T 


"sg9aqsyoapy “T]9SSNY Gout] 
[eH UMOT “AU 'N SHONONOEATLAG ‘ZZZ ‘Ol 
-49ga yf *[ jnvg &q y¢vsd0j04q 


‘spoantyo4p “sutydoyy &) Mvypty 


"(PH UMO, 


"SSVI ‘AMNUSUMAT [ZZ “OM 


*surydoy gy uvyjry fo &sainoy 


236 


ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE 237 


the success with which they are being put through bears testimony as much 
to the vision and civic spirit of the citizens as to the skill and grasp of 
planning of the architects. 

It is something of a relief, however, to turn from these monumen- 
tal, formal, but a trifle oppressive buildings, and look at some of the town 
halls that grace our smaller communities. As in the case of domestic archi- 
tecture, these vary with local taste, material, and geographical and cli- 
matic conditions. To attempt anything like a complete review would 
mean repeating much that we said in connection with domestic architec- 
ture. A few examples must suffice to suggest the charm and variety of 
all. The simplest modern Georgian is embodied in the Town Hall at 
Tewksbury, Mass. (Fig. 221), by Kilham & Hopkins. The material is 
brick. There is no use of orders or any classic ornament, so that the 
building has a seventeenth-century simplicity. The proportions are so 
fine, however, and the openings so happily placed, that the building is a 
pleasure to see as well as a most appropriate object in its New England 
setting. For a more elaborate example of the New England type, we 
may turn to the Town Hall at Peterborough, N. H., by Little & Rus- 
sell (Fig. 222). This building, reminiscent of Faneuil Hall, in Boston, 
though by no means reflecting it too closely, has the Corinthian temple 
front, carried on a simple, arcaded basement, made possible by the sharp 
slope of the ground. The flanks are pierced with simple openings, and 
the reveals are very shallow, so that the building retains an humble and 
old-fashioned appearance, in spite of the pilasters on the front. Again, 
it would be hard to find a building that fits its environment more happily. 
The Town Hall at Weston, Mass. (Fig. 223), by Bigelow & Wadsworth, 
is a far more sophisticated piece of Georgian, but no less successful. Here 
we note a lofty, colonnaded portico, windows enframed with classic orna- 
ment, and a belfry as light and graceful as any that could be found in a _ 
genuine Colonial prototype. i 

These Georgian New England buildings the writer has selected partly 
because they are characteristic and beautiful, partly because he is familiar 
with them. They are only three of hundreds of such structures, happily 
reflecting local taste. Pennsylvania, the South, the West, all have their 
own which we have no time to illustrate. By way of emphasising the va- 
riety, however, we reproduce the Highland Park City Hall, at Dallas, 


238 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


Texas (Fig. 224), by Lang & Witchell. Once more the Southwest falls 
under the spell of Spanish. To be sure, the detail is a little dry and harsh. 
We do not feel the complete understanding of the style that we have 
found in some other monuments, but the main characteristics of the style 
are there, and show how the town-hall type adapts itself to local con- 
ditions. 7 

We must not think of all city and town halls, however, as either con- 
ventional classic structures with domes, or small buildings reflecting the 
historic and local taste of domestic architecture. Special conditions and 
the imagination of architects impatient of the conventional type have 
evoked unusual and interesting solutions. For example, the City Hall 
at Oakland, Calif. (Fig. 225), by Palmer, Hornbostel & Jones, departs 
completely from the older type. From a broad base in three stories, with 
a colossal Corinthian order, a large rectangular structure, something be- 
tween an ordinary building and a tower, rises for eleven stories. It is 
crowned with a cornice and above that contracts into two terraced struc- 
tures which carry a lantern with baroque detail. Though the vocabulary 
is classical, the building is a modern and entirely practical one, more closely 
related to the commercial skyscraper than to the monumental, domical, 
civic building that we have seen in the capitol and some of the municipal 
buildings. The designers have conceived of their building as part of the 
busy environment of the modern city and have brought it into harmony 
with its surroundings. 

The outstanding example of this type of work is the New York Mu- 
nicipal Building (Fig. 226), by McKim, Mead & White. Remembering 
the classical traditions of that firm, one is not surprised to see that a con- 
sistent classic vocabulary is used even in this building, the main mass of 
which rises for twenty-three stories. At the base is an imposing Corinthian 
portico, three stories in height. Above,and behind is the main mass of 
the building which connects two wings of equal cornice height with itself. 
This central bulk, however, is continued up, in stepped masses, cunningly 
changing from a rectangular to circular form, and terminating in a Co- 
rinthian tempietto with a spire and an heroic bronze statue at the peak. 
The principles evolved by Sir Christopher Wren in the western towers of 
St. Paul’s are here applied to the topping off of a New York skyscraper. 
For the Municipal Building is frankly that. Its classical treatment and 


Photograph by Thomas Ellison. 
Fic. 223. Weston, Mass. Town Hall. Bigelow & Wadsworth, Architects. 


Fic. 224. Datias, Texas. Highland Park City Hall. Lang & Witchell, Architects. 
239 


‘spantyI4p “any Af G3 Poa “Mty2W 
‘Burpying Jediorunyy “A *N “WYOX MAN * 


926 


"OI 
*S42Y10LT SHUN YY QO) 
i 


& 


"sqoaqiyI4p “sauog, 6 Jassoquso Fy “saujog 
TeH 41D 


‘ATIVD SANVTYVO § “GZZ “OU 


“uojsuyol * FT 4¢)oy hq y¢vss0joygd 


hte 
e3 


Ae 10 ——1 


he 


ve 
J eenee 


aaa 


_ 


ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE 241 


sobriety temper somewhat its commercial character, but it is frankly de- 
signed for lower New York, to be the companion of commercial sky- 
scrapers and to mingle with them on terms of equality. It has their prac- 
tical advantages, their imagination, their sensationalism, and artistically it 
must stand or fall with them. 

Of a somewhat different function, but belonging to the same gen- 
eral category, is the Court House, designed for New York, by the late 
Guy Lowell. The architect won a spirited competition, largely, we feel, 
by the originality of his plan. The competition drawings showed a cir- 
cular plan, but practical considerations forced a change to the present one 
(Fig. 228) with a circular interior and an hexagonal exterior. The prob- 
lem was a very complicated one, and the solution so bold as to inspire 
first satire, then sincere admiration. The circular central court provides 
not only a dignified effect, but ideal communication. The subordinate 
rooms are ranged about it in the happiest convenience and functional po- 
sition. The eccentric light courts which it imposed, far from being waste 
space, as at first feared, not only fulfil their purpose, but add interest 
and variety to the building. The hexagonal form makes a most unusual 
exterior (Fig. 227). It is probably more successful than the original 
structure which, not without pertinent wit, was indicted as a plaza de 
toros. Boldness and eccentricity too often produce only an aberration. 
In the New York Court House they created a building at once interesting, 
beautiful, and functional. 

One of the most interesting types of modern American public build- 
ing is the museum of fine arts. Thanks to the great wealth of the coun- 
try and the constantly increasing taste and interest of the citizens, such 
buildings are being erected all over the country. Even when at times 
one suspects that little real appreciation of the fine arts exists in a com- 
munity, civic pride demands that a centre aspiring to metropolitanism 
must emulate its rivals and have its art museum. Oftentimes beautiful 
and monumental buildings are erected to house collections of the most in- 
different objects. Civic pride too often is appeased by pointing to the 
building and ignoring its contents. On the other hand, oftentimes new 
museums are forced into existence by the accumulation of valuable col- 
Jections and the subsequent inevitable demand that they be suitably housed. 
In justice to museum directors, one should observe that they are gener- 


> gaa a. os 
eae ee 


Photograph by Wurts Brothers. 


Fic. 227. New York, N. Y. County Court-House. Guy Lowell, Architect. 


Fic. 228. 


New York, N, Y. County Court-House: Final Plan. 


cCALAER 
Covat Room 
SPECIAL TERM. PART 


+ “eo * 
eo  teses* 


ike “*r00| or 
*s | 
oy k 


ec 

o 

3 

@ 
eartege 


MAIN EATRAN 


© VESTIBVLE 


@ @ roxtico © (ce) 
ecccsicccce 


242 


Guy Lowell, Architect. 


ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE 243 


ally far more interested in their collections than their buildings. With 
the free funds at their disposal, they generally acquire paintings, statuary, 
silver, textiles, or whatever most interests them, making hay while the sun 
shines, realising that the supply is by no means inexhaustible and that what 
they do not buy now they may never have an opportunity to buy again, 
confident that the money necessary properly to house and exhibit these 
objects will be forthcoming when the scandal of their congestion becomes 
sufficiently obvious. Happily this confidence is usually justified. 

From the esthetic point of view no problem is more delicate and diffi- 
cult than the design of an art museum. The two chief requirements of 
architecture appear in their most exaggerated form. The architect must 
make his building practical and he must make it beautiful. If he falters 
in either, his building is a miserable failure. In the past, many art mu- 
seums have been built only to be beautiful. For example, in Hunt’s Fogg 
Museum at Harvard the designer seemed anxious only to make a beau- 
tiful monument. ‘The sole magazine space was in the basement, where 
there was scarcely head room; the only access to this was by stairs, down 
which it is impossible to carry any large object of art. There was no ac- 
commodation for packing and unpacking, the lighting was so poor that, 
except on the sunniest days, the visitor groped in a Stygian gloom. Hunt 
built a monument, not an art museum, nor should we criticise him too 
harshly, for he built according to the ideas of his day. Yet the building 
which is designed for the exhibition of beautiful objects and in which 
they cannot be properly shown nor even properly unpacked is a failure, 
no matter how beautiful it may be in itself. 

On the other hand, if an art museum fulfil every functional require- 
ment in the most efficient way and be in itself an ugly thing, it is no less 
a failure. It is a blatant negation of the very ideal which it is designed 
to foster. If an architect cannot design a beautiful building which will 
properly receive, house, and display objects of beauty, his art is useless 
and he might better turn over his commission to an engineer. 

How difficult his task is, few laymen can divine. He must provide 
such prosaic things as ample and accessible packing-rooms, freight-ele- 
vators, and a score of functionalised rooms for photography, restorations, 
and all that goes with the technical study and care of works of art. He 
must provide for a most elaborate mechanical plant that will keep tem- 


244 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


peratures even and maintain a constant humidity. * The disastrous frac- 
tures of delicate ancient panels have taught the necessity of excluding all 
outer air and supplying the building with only that which has been arti- 
ficially tempered, filtered, and humidified. The architect must provide 
not only good light, but light the source of which is arranged with refer- 
ence to the colour and form of the objects which it is to illumine. At the 
same time, he must produce broad wall spaces, unpierced by windows, 
against which his objects may be shown. This imposes large blank walls 
on the exterior, with a tendency to monotony. With all this, he must 
usually consider cost and join battle with client and director, jealous of 
every penny that goes into bricks and mortar, instead of the acquisition of 
new works of art. All of these conditions he must meet and make his 
building beautiful, as well. Verily we should judge him charitably, and 
yet the high standards of his profession enable us to demand his complete 
success. 

In museum design, as in other, there are two problems: one involv- 
ing the creation of a new museum; the other the modification of, or addi- 
tion to, an old one. In the latter case, the architect is so handicapped that 
it is hard to judge his ability, yet the case is very common. In the great- 
est of American art museums, the Metropolitan in New York, the col- 
lection has increased so enormously and yet the plant at successive stages 
has been so valuable that there has been nothing to do but add wing after 
wing as collections accumulated. In this case, we can hold the architect 
responsible only for his individual wing, and one could almost trace the 
development of what we might call the science of museography * in the 
way the successive wings at the Metropolitan have been handled. On 
the other hand, a great many of the most modern American museums have 
been designed homogeneously by one architect. In this case, to other con- 
siderations he must always add that of the possibilities of expansion. 

Obviously, we cannot go into any detailed discussion of the museum 
problem. We can only indicate it as above, and call attention to a few 
typical examples of the art museum in America. The Metropolitan, in 
New York, would require an essay in itself. Much of it would not be 
pertinent, as a considerable part of the structure we can hardly call “mod- 


* It is a new but a real science. At Harvard, for example, a whole course is offered, 
for graduate students, on the museum and museum problems. 


ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE 245 


ernie’ 


If we look at the interior of the wing recently added for the exhi- 
bition of classic sculpture, however (Fig. 229), we can see how perfectly 
an addition is made for the exhibition of a certain genre of objects of art. 
The hall is spacious, the sculptures can be seen well, both close to, from 
afar, and from all sides, and the flavour of the room is truly classical. 
Had we time to review the new American wing, we should get a variant 
of the same successful treatment. On the other hand, though the museum 
as a whole is an imposing pile, it is hard to imagine anything that would 
make it truly beautiful. 

In Boston the situation was not so difficult. Some fifteen years ago 
the trustees decided to move the museum to roomier quarters, so that the 
old museum on Copley Square was abandoned and the plan and erection 
of a huge new plant on Huntington Avenue and the Fenway was in- 
trusted to Guy Lowell. He produced an interesting mass, with Ionic 
pavilions and wings, two-storied, with the upper the most important and 
carried on a rusticated basement (Fig. 231). The material was granite 
and the whole expression was severe. Imposing as the work is now, it is 
but a fragment of what is planned. One can criticise it in detail. For 
example, the rich play of light and shadow in the Evans Wing has been 
got by a deep profiling which unduly darkens the interior, and the de- 
signer has laid himself open to the old charge of forgetting the objects 
of art in the attempt to make his building itself an artistic success. On 
the other hand, some of the interiors are masterpieces of proper exhi- 
bition, and especially the oriental rooms (Fig. 230), in lighting, in colour, 
and in arrangement, are an achievement unsurpassed in American work 
or, for the matter of that, abroad. | 

In Philadelphia a great museum of art is under construction, but not 
far enough along for us to judge it critically. The architects’ sketches 
(Borie, Trumbauer, and Zantinger, associated) (Fig. 232) show an im- 
pressive elevation. One of the interesting innovations is to be a daring 
use of colour in full intensities. The form is strictly classical, and the 
use of colour in keeping with classic tradition. Just what classic colour 
was like, however, we cannot tell, though archzological researches have 
been painstaking on the subject. It is to be hoped and expected that the 
architects in Philadelphia will not be tempted by the will-o’-the-wisp 
of archzological correctness, but will select their colours boldly from the 


RBS. we " Ry 


Courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. 


Fic. 229. New York, N. Y. Metropolitan Museum: Pompeian Court. 
McKim, Mead & White, Architects. 


Courtesy of the Museum of Fine Arts. 


Fic. 230. Boston, Mass. Museum of Fine Arts: Japanese Court. Guy Lowell, Architect. 
246 


Courtesy of the Museum of Fine Arts. 


Fic. 231. Boston, Mass. Museum of Fine Arts. Guy Lowell, Architect. 


Fic. 232. PuirapetpHia, Pa. Museum. Horace Trumbauer, C. L. Borie, C. C. Zantzinger, Architects. 


Fic. 233. CLEveLanp, OHIO. Art Miisear. Hubbell & Benes, Architects. 
247 


248 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


point of view of what brings out the best and most decorative qualities 
of the architecture. In so doing, they may erect a mile-stone in the his- 
tory of American art. Even more interesting is the use of “architectural 
refinements,” planned in consultation with the late Professor Goodyear, 
of the Brooklyn Institute. Following a Greek precedent, but not imi- 
tating a Greek formula, every line in the building is curved. The de- 
signers thus hope to avoid, as McKim, Mead & White have often avoided, 
the lifelessness that so often mars otherwise admirable modern buildings. 

One of the finest and most successful of American art museums was 
erected in Cleveland (Fig. 233) in 1916, the architects being Hubbell & 
Benes. Here the designers met their problem frankly and fearlessly. 
For exterior windows in the facade they had no need, so they were omit- 
ted. On the other hand, by the use of fine marble, a central Ionic pa- 
vilion with flanking subordinate ones, and quiet but beautifully studied 
proportions, they made their building a work of art worthy of its pur- 
pose and the treasures of which it was to be guardian. Within is a court, 
admirably suited for the exhibition of sculpture, and round it are galleries 
with varied functions. The scientific and practical needs of the art museum 
have been studied with conspicuous success. 

Comparable to the Cleveland Museum is the Freer Gallery of Art 
(Figs. 234, 235), recently erected in Washington by Charles A. Platt, to 
house the collection left to the nation by the Detroit connoisseur of 
Whistler and oriental art. Here, again, the front was left unpierced, 
though the treatment of channelled ashlar is bolder and the parapet per- 
haps a little false in scale. Within is a beautiful court, with rooms round 
it specially designed for the type of objects, chiefly oils by Whistler and 
oriental painting on silk, which were to be shown. Again, the scientific 
requirements have been carefully studied. In the same general class is 
the beautiful Memorial Art Gallery of the University of Rochester, New 
York (Fig. 263), by Foster, Gade & Graham. These buildings show that 
the frequent necessity of designing blank walls in an art gallery may be an 
zesthetic asset as well as a handicap. Indeed, McKim showed the way 
in his design for the Walker Art Gallery of Bowdoin College, Bruns- 
wick, Maine. ‘The materials, brick and limestone, were inexpensive, but 
the proportions are so fine and the detail so delicate, that the building 
might have been designed by Raphael. A more orthodox classic design, 


Fic. 234. Wasnincton, D.C. Freer Art Gallery. Charles A. Platt, Architect. 


Fic. 235. Wasuincton, D. C. 


i 
i 
; 
3 
: 
Hi 


Freer Art Gallery: Courtyard. Charles A. Platt, Architect. 
249 


250 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


but a very beautiful building, well adapted to its purpose, is the Min- 
neapolis Museum of Fine Arts (Fig. 237), also by McKim, Mead & 
White. Here the facade is pierced on the main story, while a second 
story, lighted from above, is masked on the facade. A basement, lighted 
with low windows, provides extra exhibition space and rooms for instruc- 
tion and the manifold technical functions of the museum. ‘The centre 
is dignified by a fine Ionic portico, raised above the roof of the wings. 

A building, technically designated as a library, which belongs definitely 
in the museum category is the Morgan Library, in East 36th Street, 
New York, by McKim, Mead & White (Fig. 238). In this case, a client 
of refined taste and unlimited means commissioned a great firm to de- 
sign a modest building, sparing nothing to make it fine. Though fig- 
ures are not available and it would be impertinent to ask them, there is 
probably no building in America that cost more per cubic foot than the 
Morgan Library. There is none that would give less of an effect of 
ostentation. The ashlar is of the finest, cut with the precision of the 
craftsmen of Ictinus and joined, without cement, in the Greek manner. 
Every detail is as carefully studied and as delicately carved as though it 
were itself a jewel, yet everything is quietly done. An exquisite sense 
of proportion is maintained between the unpierced walls and the por- 
ticoed front, with its motif Palladio, the favourite of the small museum. 
Probably no building of its size was ever designed to house so many such 
precious objects. The architects designed it deliberately to be worthy of 
its charges. 

The classic style has been the overwhelming favourite for museums 
and certainly seems the most apt and congruous. On the other hand, not 
all museums exhibit this style. In New Haven, Day & Klauder have 
just finished the Peabody Museum of Natural History (Fig. 239), in the 
Gothic style. To be sure, this is not an art museum, and the problems 
of exhibition in a museum of natural history are far simpler than in an 
art museum. In the former we are more interested in the quantity than 
the quality of light, while the designer of the art museum is equally in- 
terested in both. The lofty Gothic windows of the Peabody Museum 
are, therefore, no handicap from the practical point of view. To design 
a Gothic art museum, however, where large blank walls are demanded, 
will tax the ingenuity of the architect. An ingenious architect might ac- 
complish it, but at the cost, we suggest, of an uneconomical effort. 


PCE 


ee eee 


Fic. 236. Rocuesrer, N. Y. University of Rochester: Memorial Art Gallery. 
Foster, Gade & Graham, Architects. 


wes OR ge a a i i mua: a ital 2% 


& $bitebad? & 
ee Bee ee 
set 


Fig. 237. Mrnneapouis, Minn. Museum of Fine Arts... McKim, Mead & White, Architects. 
251 


20D THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


An interesting example of the university museum just completed is 
the Fogg Museum of Art, at Harvard (Fig. 240), by Coolidge, Shep- 
ley, Bulfinch & Abbott. Here the problem was unusually involved, as 
the museum had to be not only a work of art in itself and well adapted 
for the favourable exhibition of works of art, but also a laboratory of 
the fine arts for the university department. It had to include lecture- 
rooms, large and small; drafting-rooms; a small working library of the 
fine arts; storage-rooms for photographs; facilities for the taking of pho- 
tographs, both common and X-ray; for chemical research in pigments, 
and for the restoration of works of art; in short, for the score of func- 
tions that appear when a museum is combined with a working department 
of the fine arts, interested in history, theory, and practice. The problem 
was complicated by limited funds. The building is of brick with a lime- 
stone trim, no orders, and depending for its effect solely upon refinement 
of detail and carefully studied proportions. Its success is gratifying and 
it is a most interesting example of the type embodying the collaboration 
of the architect with a long-established department of fine arts, well aware 
of its needs. 

In the Southwest, the Spanish styles have been found peculiarly well 
_ adapted for museum purposes. The broad, blank walls, the small open- 
ings, the massed ornament; all lend themselves to easy solutions of the 
museum problem. We reproduce a detail of the facade of the Fine Arts 
Building in Balboa Park, San Diego (Fig. 241), by W. T. Johnson. For 
Spanish, it is very restrained work. As a stylistic performance and as a 
work of art, it is most creditable and, at the same time, it is ideal from 
the practical point of view. 

A most interesting example of local architecture in museum work is 
the Santa Fé Museum (Figs. 242, 243), by J. H. Rapp and A. C. Hen- 
drickson. This is a combination of what we might call the Spanish and 
the Pueblo styles. The two have much in common. If we look at a 
characteristic piece of Pueblo work, such as the oven at Taos, we note 
the heavy, thick-walled construction, with a tendency to batter the walls, 
and the otherwise smooth face enlivened by slashed shadows produced 
by projecting beams. This is the simplest and crudest of construction; 
one can hardly call it architecture, or imagine it inspiring architecture. 
If we look at a group of Pueblo buildings, as at Taos (Fig. 56), we see 


. j » ewPiegry 2% 
| | eee 5 Se 3S 


Photograph pe ri H. Drie. 
Fic. 238. New Yorx, N. Y. Morgan Library. McKim, Mead & White, Architects. 


Fic, 239. New Haven, Conn. Yale University: Peabody Museum. Day & Klauder, Architects. 
253 


SSeS ey 


Ee 


cao 


Courtesy of the Fogg Art Museum. 


Fic. 240. Camsripce, Mass. Harvard University: New Fogg Art Museum. 
Coolidge, Shepley, Bulfinch & Abbott, Architects. 


Fic. 241. San Dieco, Cauir. Fine Arts Building. William T. Fohnson, Architect. 
| 254 


ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE QE 


that the ensemble has an architectural impressiveness. The repetition of 
a number of units of the same shape produces dignity and harmony. 
The recurrent shadows cast by the beams make the whole sparkle. In 
the Santa Fé Museum many of the details are Spanish, but designed and 
cut with the naivete of early Spanish work, when the actual craftsmen 
were usually Indians with the scantiest technical training. The exterior 
is derived from pure Pueblo work. It is bound to be criticised on the 
grounds of crudity. On the other hand, it is a most interesting exam- 
ple of the combination of historical influence and rampant modernism. _ Its 
sources can be guessed by a study of Taos and, let us say, the old Gov- 
ernor’s Palace at Santa Fé (Fig. 16). Its outline, its point of view, its 
philosophy of design will be accepted, however, by the extremist in Teu- 
tonic modernism. 

A different and probably a significant phase of modernism is embodied 
in B. G. Goodhue’s building for the National Academy of Sciences, Wash- 
ington, D. C. (Fig. 244). Modernist tendencies appeared, as we have 
seen, in this great artist’s work in Nebraska. At the same time we have 
noted the refinement, so charming in his Gothic and Spanish, carried over 
into modernism. The same is true in the building for the Academy of 
Sciences. Its functions are unusual and manifold. It is at once a scien- 
tific museum, a building for instruction, and a monument. Placed on a 
vital and conspicuous point in the Washington plan, it could not be de- 
signed without reference to the Capitol, the Washington Monument, and 
the Lincoln Memorial—all whole-heartedly classical. The architect’s bent 
caused him to reject a classical design, his exquisite taste led him to adopt 
one that would not be out of harmony with the classic monuments. For 
material he selected a beautiful, white marble. His forms are the most 
blocklike and simple, showing off the marble at its best. His detail is 
new and unclassical, but his effect of horizontality, dignity, and easily 
grasped geometric form are in perfect harmony with classic design. In 
short, he has demonstrated that one can be new and not eccentric; modern, 
and refined. For his interiors (Fig. 245) he used broad vaults and a 
new and colourful system of ornament, developed by himself. None 
was better fitted to do so, for this architect was a book illuminator of 
charm and ability and he had colour mastery at his finger-tips. The Na- 
tional Academy of Sciences is unquestionably a landmark in American 


Fic. 248. 


Santa FE, N. M. Museum of Art. Rapp & Rapp and A. C. Hendrickson, 
256 


Architects. 


Photograph by Mattie\E. Hewitt. 


Fic. 244. Wasuincton, D.C. National Academy of Sciences. 
Bertram G. Goodhue, Architect. 


Photograph by Mattie E. Hewitt. 


Fic. 245. Wasuincton, D.C. National Academy of Sciences: Central Hall. 
Bertram G. Goodhue, Architect. 


257 


258 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


architecture. It does give one, however, a little the impression of an ex- 
quisite idea not entirely thought out. One of the greatest losses to Ameri- 
can architecture was the death of Mr. Goodhue, preventing him from tak- 
ing the step forward beyond this design that we should not have looked 
for in vain had he lived. 

Another special set of problems in connection with the public build- 
ing 1s involved in the library. These vary from huge, complicated, and 
ornate structures, like the Library of Congress or the New York Public 
Library, to the small town libraries, often the gifts of some well-to-do 
and public-spirited local citizen. Like the museum, the library is some- 
thing of a gauge of cultural progress in America. Like the museum, 
however, too often it is the result of civic pride, or the desire of some 
prominent citizen to commemorate himself in a beautiful monument, 
rather than an indication of a real interest of the community in books. 
The memorial library, with its pretentious front and its indifferent col- 
lection of unread volumes, is none the less rapidly becoming a thing of 
the past. A teacher in a university is often surprised to see how fre- 
quently, when a reading prescription has caused a temporary demand for 
some standard book, his students will find copies of it in a half a dozen 
neighbouring libraries with small but well-chosen collections. 

Like the museum, too, the practical needs of the library are essen- 
tial and, if not attained, make the building a failure no matter how beau- 
tiful it may be. These requirements are simpler than those of the mu- 
seum. The public library, large or small, must be well ventilated, pro- 
vided with a reading-room, with good light by day and night; must have 
clean and adequate stack-room, with a chance for expansion; and must 
be fireproof. The most complicated problem is that of circulation. The 
communications from the multifold stacks must lead easily to the de- 
livery desk. These lanes must not cross those of persons coming to the 
desk for books. The main reading-room must be easily accessible to the 
desk and yet so placed that the readers will not be disturbed by those who | 
come to get books to take away. In a library of any scale, the reading- 
room must have an attendant whose desk should command the ingress and 
egress as a precaution against theft. This is the more important since 
most reading-rooms of any size are provided with books on shelves, stand- 
ard works and books of reference, which may be taken down and perused 


ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE 259 


without being signed for. In a really great library, there are the prob- 
lems of the card catalogue, accessible to the delivery desk, the specialised 
rooms for the many special collections that all such libraries accumulate, 
and a score of other considerations peculiar to a given example. The 
chief idea in America, and we may be proud of it, is to make as many 
books as accessible as possible to as many people as demand them. This 
ideal, in any of our great libraries, is attained at the cost of frequent loss 
or mutilation of volumes. To any one who has worked in a Continental 
library where, by paying a large deposit, one may be entitled to demand, 
say, three books at a time on one day and receive them on returning the 
next, the gain is worth the sacrifice. All these things the architect must 
keep in mind and still must make his building beautiful. 

The largest library in the United States, and the second in the world, 
is the Library of Congress, by Smithmeyer & Pelz and E. P. Casey (Fig. 
246). In elevation it is classical, with a high basement and a colonnaded 
pavilion in the centre. It is dominated by a low dome, which covers the 
main reading-room. The plan is interesting, the central polygon being 
flanked by exedralike rooms which give it the form of a St. Andrew’s 
cross, while it is bisected by a lateral axis with stack-room and corridors. 
The main desk is situated in the centre, under the dome, and is thus ac- 
cessible to the stack-rooms on all sides which feed up to it from below. 
The main room is more convenient for delivery than for reading. Much 
of the building is treated in a very monumental way and indeed was de- 
signed as much as a national monument as the nation’s great storehouse 
and delivery centre for books. Great halls and staircases, elaborate col- 
oured marbles, and variegated painting adorn it (Fig. 247), but taste 
has changed since it was completed in 1897, and nowadays it looks more 
ostentatious than we generally consider compatible with the serious, in- 
tellectual purpose for which it is supposed to be designed. It cost 
$6,180,000, but it looks its cost a little too obviously. 

A rather more successful contemporary was the Boston Public Li- 
brary, by McKim, Mead & White, completed in 1895 (Fig. 248 loin 
this building nothing was spared which might give it practicality and 
beauty. Designed to house one of the largest collections of books in the 
world, and a collection that, though carefully selected, was intended stead- 
ily to grow, the problems of stack space, communication, and cataloguing 


aca ae 


% pt oo 


© Detroit Publishing Co. 


Fic. 246. Wasuincton, D.C. Library of Congress. 
(7) D. C. Smithmeyer & Pelz, and (2) Edward P. Casey, Architects. 


COMERTES 1G We ts PAvE Ay 


Fic. 247. Wasuincton, D.C. Library of Congress: Grand Stair Hall. 
(1) D. C. Smithmeyer & Pelz, and (2) Edward P. Casey, Architects. . 


260 


ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE . 261 


were carefully studied and admirably solved. The exterior was richly 
designed, but kept massive and dignified, the ornament having that re- 
finement which so frequently appears in American work. For inspira- 
tion, McKim went frankly to Labrouste’s Bibliothéque St. Geneviéve, 
in Paris. He has been accused of a lack of originality in so doing. On 
the other hand, most people will admit that he improved upon the origi- 
nal and this is the commonest way in which great architecture has been 
achieved. If the charge of plagiarism has any ground, it should be ap- 
plied equally to Labrouste, who went as frankly to Bramante and Leon 
Battista Alberti for his ideas. The interior of the Boston Public Library 
was decorated with paintings by Abbey, by John Singer Sargent, and by 
Puvis de Chavannes. The latter, especially, created a colour scheme for 
the great staircase as exquisitely in tone with the marble architecture as 
any work in fresco of the late Middle Ages or Renaissance. The cost 
of the Boston Public Library was slightly under two and one-half mil- 
lions. It gives the impression of unlimited wealth handled with the taste 
and restraint of intellectual good breeding. 

Following these came the New York Public Library (Figs. 249, 251), 
completed in r911 by Carrere & Hastings. Again, built to house the 
combination of three enormous collections and destined to grow, it offered 
its designers the most tremendous technical problems. ‘These they over- 
came forcefully, though occasionally at some artistic sacrifice. For exam- 
ple, the enormous reading-room, beautifully proportioned, with a mag- 
nificent ceiling, is seriously marred by a delivery desk which cuts it squarely 
in half and prevents the eye from grasping its true proportions and enor- 
mous scale. On the other hand, the way the stack-room is handled and 
lighted from behind is not only practical and ingenious but an exquisite 
artistic success as well. The front shows a fine Corinthian colonnade, 
broken by a vigorous entrance pavilion, carrying an attic. The impres- 
sion of that pavilion to-day is a trifle too heavy, a defect that 1s admit- 
ted by Mr. Hastings, the surviving member of the firm. We repro- 
duce a photograph of a modified facade (Fig. 250), with the angles of 
the central pavilion broken and two more columns added, making three 
pairs of two columns instead of two pairs of two and single columns at 
the angles. This has been designed by Mr. Hastings and represents an 
enormous improvement on the present facade. It is interesting to note 


‘sanYIap “YY S poopy “ury oy 


Wit. 


“Areaqry orqng 


"SSVJ] ‘NOLSOG 


“SP “OI 


$ 
: 


262 


ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE 26; 


that the architect has made provision in his will for the means to carry 
out the change. The conditions under which an artist considers he may 
rest in peace often differ from those imagined by a layman! As at Bos- 
ton, the detail of the New York Public Library is of great refinement, 
and the monument is one of which Americans should always be proud. 

The libraries of Congress, of Boston, and of New York are the three 
particularly outstanding examples of the type in recent American archi- 
tecture. Many other great examples have recently been erected, how- 
ever; indeed, so many that we could not chronicle them all in so gen- 
eral a review. A few will call attention to the group and the excellence 
of the work as a whole. For Detroit, Cass Gilbert did a very magnificent 
library, using a simple plan and a rich but not ostentatious exterior (Fig. 
252). Not unlike it in general character and scale, and one of the most 
dignified and gracious in effect, is the St. Paul Public Library, done for 
the capital of Minnesota, by Electus D. Litchfield. Both these exam- 
ples favoured the blocklike elevation and the avoidance of the elaborate 
colonnade and the colossal order. 

A separate group might be made of university libraries. Here the 
problem is apt to vary slightly with the need for larger reading-rooms, 
for greater shelf space for reserved volumes, for rooms for special study, 
and in many other ways. The university library must always plan for 
growth, but it can control its growth better than many other libraries 
and is usually able to exclude all books of a frivolous or ephemeral ap- 
peal. Generally, too, the university brings all the pressure it can in favour 
of the maximum expense for the efficiency of the plant and the minimum 
for the adornment of the building. Materials are apt to be simpler and 
the exterior effect less monumental than in the case of the public or na- 
tional library. This is true in the face of the fact that, as far as the size 
of the collection is concerned, the university library may rival that of the 
municipality, or even the nation. 

One of the earliest of the great modern university libraries was that 
done by McKim, Mead & White for Columbia, in New York (Fig. 253). 
It is a great domical structure, of the central type, and is purely clas- 
sical. Unlike most of the work of the firm, however, it is a trifle cold 
and uninspiring. Nor does it seem entirely felicitous from the practical 
point of view. The main reading-room is not very well lighted nor very 


Photasrash by Wurts Brothers. 
Fic. 249. New Yorx, N.Y. Public Library. Carrére & Hastings, Architects. 


Via Ren de HO, 


ee a oe 


Fic. 250. New York, N. Y. Public Library: Facade as It Is to Be Remodelled by Mr. Hastings. 
Carrére &§ Hastings, Architects. 


264 


Fic. 251. New York, N. Y. Public Library: Rear View. 
Carrere 8 Hastings, Architects. 


Pisisers ph by Keak Clark. 
Fro. 252. Derrorr, Micu. Public Library. Cass Gilbert, Architect. 
265 


266 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


conveniently arranged. There is little provision for the expansion of 
the collection, and one senses that the ambition to make an imposing 
monument has overshadowed the study of practical needs. When one 
compares this with the Boston Public Library by the same firm, one feels 
that the seriousness of the problem of the university library is not yet 
wholly appreciated. 

As an example of the problem more practically solved, we might ob- 
serve the Harry Elkins Widener Memorial Library of Harvard Uni- 
versity (Fig. 255). Here a princely gift made possible the erection of 
a proper building not only to house, but in every way to make accessible, 
a great university collection. The architect was Horace Trumbauer, and 
the library was dedicated in 1915. The conservative at Harvard dreaded 
the erection of an enormous pile which would dwarf the older buildings 
in the Harvard Yard, but it is hard to see how one could place profitably a 
university library anywhere but in its centre and, if any building in a uni- 
versity is to dwarf the others, the library is surely the most appropriate 
one to do so. 3 

The scale, perforce, was enormous. Although not all, the great ma- 
jority of the books of Harvard were to be housed in the new building 
and Harvard’s general collection is the fifth largest in the world, being 
preceded only by the Bibliothéque Nationale, the Library of Congress, 
the British Museum, and the New York Public Library, which rank in 
that order. As far as size is concerned, therefore, the problem was as 
grave as could confront any library. In addition were peculiar condi- 
tions involving accessibility of the books for large numbers of students 
and the most liberal possible accessibility in the very stacks themselves 
for graduate students, members of the faculty, and accredited scholars 
engaged in research. The reading-room (Fig. 2 56) had to be made large, 
well lighted, and well aired for the hordes of students who would be 
using it all day. Enormous provision had to be made for the increase 
of the collection and, even with the allowance made, at the present rate 
of growth, the stacks will be filled in ten years’ time. In the stacks, 
cubicles with tables and chairs were placed for graduate students, and 
opening into the stacks were private rooms allotted to members of the 
faculty. For a serious student, engaged in research, the Widener Li- 
brary is like the private library of an individual. The writer has taken 


Fic. 253. New Yorx, N. Y. Columbia University Library. 
McKim, Mead & White, Architects. 


Fic. 254. New Yorx, N. Y. Columbia University Library: Reading-Room. 
McKim, Mead & White, Architects. 


267 


Fic. 255. CamBripce, Mass. Harvard University: Widener Memorial Library. 


Horace Trumbauer, Architect. 


Fic. 256. Campripce, Mass. Harvard University: Widener Memorial Library, Reading-Room. 


Horace Trumbauer, Architect. 


268 


ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE 269 


a hundred and more books in a day from the shelves to his study, hav- 
ing them charged to him merely by filling out little cards which he 
dropped in a slot in his study door. When one compares this with the 
d.fficulties involved in the use of libraries elsewhere, and especially abroad, 
one feels that the scholar must be poor, indeed, whose work does not 
progress in such a library. It is the heart of the university and, by the 
number, quality, and accessibility of its books, one can best judge the health 
of an institution of learning. 

A very interesting example of the university library is soon to be 
erected at Yale (Fig. 257).. The architect is James Gamble Rogers, and, 
consistent with his other work at Yale, the library is to be Gothic. The 
problem is in all respects similar to the one at Harvard. The academic 
cond.tions are the same and the collection is second only to Harvard’s in 
size. On the other hand, the use of Gothic, with especial emphasis on 
verticality, is a bold innovation. The theory seems to be that with steel 
construction and the efficiency of the modern elevator, vertical commu- 
nications are as easily handled as horizontal ones. Even in a great library 
horizontally composed, many tiers of stacks are imperative and numerous 
automatic elevators are required. The wisdom of stressing their use only 
time can tell. Unless a considerable number of roomy lifts with human 
operators are included there will be bound to be irritating delays. Other 
things being equal, it seems better to communicate horizontally than ver- 
tically, but this may be the retention of an old-fashioned idea. In any 
case, the experiment at Yale is courageous and interesting, and the per- 
spective designed by the architect is undeniably very beautiful. 

All these have been libraries on a very large scale. We must not for- 
get, however, the hosts of charming and efficiently designed small libraries 
that are appearing all over the country. They remind one of the similar 
class of art museums which we have already reviewed. As a wholly sat- 
isfactory example, selected frankly because it is familiar to the writer, we 
might observe the public library of Waltham, Mass. (Fig. 258), by Leland 
& Loring. Agreeable proportions, refinement of brick and stone, could 
hardly go farther, nor could we find a monument more perfectly expres- 
sive of American taste in architecture. Again, we may be proud when 
we realise that this is not an isolated example, but merely one of a nu- 
merous class. 


Fic. 257. New Haven, Conn. Yale University: Proposed Sterling Library. 
Fames Gamble Rogers, Architect. 


ae 


Piswirank i. Thomar Ais ca 
Fic. 258. Wattuam, Mass. Public Library. Leland & Loring, Architects. 
270 


ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE 271 


For an entirely different type, but much the same in scale, we may turn 
to the building, as modest as it is charming, designed by W. T. Johnson, 
for La Jolla, Calif. (Fig. 259). Here, using the simplest means and the 
most economical materials, the designer has created an appropriate, inti- 
mate, and graceful work. It, like the library at Waltham, must symbolise 
an army of small buildings which add lustre to the American architecture 
of to-day. 

There are, of course, important monumental buildings in the United 
States which are not monuments pure and simple, and yet which cannot 
be classified under the head of libraries, art museums, or in similar gen- 
eral categories. Perhaps the most conspicuous and interesting of these is 
the building, designed by Kelsey and Cret, for the Pan-American Union 
in Washington, D. C. It was completed in rgro. It is a pity that we 
cannot study it in detail. Few buildings have shown as good taste, as 
careful study, as rich a use of variegated material, and as much construc- 
tive imagination as the Pan-American building. The problem was an 
unusual one. ‘There were practical considerations, such as the housing 
of a library, but the chief consideration was to create a monument worthy 
to symbolise the great cause of amity between the American nations and, 
at the same time, to suggest that it was a monument to North and South 
America and to all of the nations of both continents. The exterior (Fig. 
260) is both rich and chaste. Using a fine marble and without breaking 
violently from ordinary architectural speech, the designers created some- 
thing that immediately announces itself as different from the other build- 
ings in Washington. There is happily no attempt to imitate any specific 
South American style—historic or otherwise—yet the architects, with in- 
finite finesse, have given the elevation just that exotic touch which be- 
speaks a work designed for two continents and many nations. Within, 
archeological research and historic study have assisted imagination until, 
detail by detail, the mind moves to Mexico, to Central America, and to 
the republics of the South. Imagination has spiced archxology, however, 
so that never are we oppressed by that sense of pedantry which so often 
accompanies an archxological effort. The patio (Fig. 261) is frankly 
southern. It has a fountain in the centre, an open staircase at the back, 
Spanish windows which look down upon the flower-filled court, and a 
movable glass roof which can protect the court in winter and yet be rolled 


Public Library. William T. fohnson, Architect. 


Fic. 259. La Jouia, Ca.ir. 


Fic. 260. Wasnuincton, D. C. Pan-American’ Union. 
Albert Kelsey and Paul P. Cret, Architects. 


279 


ican Union. 


Pan-Amer 


. 


G 


D 


b] 


WASHINGTON 
Albert Kelsey and Paul P 


Apia 


Fic 


Cret, Architects. 


: Ballroom. 


ican Union 


Pan-Ameri 
Cret 


98 We 
Kelsey and Paul P 


b 


WASHINGTON 
Albert 


262. 


Fic. 


thects. 


Arch 


’ 


273 


274. THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


back and open to the sky when nights are balmy and fair. Its carvings { 
in interesting and precious materials recall the civilisations of the Aztecs, 


} 


J 


/ 


the Mayans, and other great races of the South before the Spanish Con- | | 


quest. In the upper story, at the back, is one of the most beautifully de-. 
signed and proportioned ballrooms (Fig. 262) which the writer has seen 
in any country. Here the exotic and playful is properly excluded and 
nothing breaks the refinement of cool, white members, perfect propor- 
tions, and aristocratic formality. Behind the building is a beautiful gar- 


den and pool in keeping with the whole. 

Another important building, not purely a monument, yet none the 
less belonging to the general category of monuments, is the Temple of 
the Scottish Rite, at Washington, by John Russell Pope. It was dedi- 
cated in October, 1915. Here, again, the problem was a very special one. 
The building had to be adapted to a ritual and had to embody monumen- 
tality, beauty, and mystery. The style chosen was classic, yet different 
from the ordinary classic design (Fig. 263). Upon a very lofty base 
the architect carried an exquisite Ionic colonnade. ‘This carries an attic, 
above which towers a stepped pyramidal roof. The effect js that of a 
temple, but certainly not the conventional Greek temple. One is re- 
minded more of a great monument like the Mausoleum of Halicarnassus. 
The material is fine limestone, which can reveal the delicacy and beauty 
of the detail. The floor plan, with its spacious walls and its apsidal ter- 
mination, suggests both the church and the temple, though it cannot be 
said to be designed strictly for either. Lofty windows, rectangular and 
severe, partially shrouded in curtains, admit sparse light to an interior 
of mystery (Fig. 264). Here again the problem was difficult, unusual, 
and the architect has risen nobly to a noble opportunity. 

When we turn from these to buildings intended purely as monuments, 
we consider still another phase of modern American architecture. Since 
men have first built, they have tended to commemorate great events and 
great characters in architecture. The memorial building is often the 
architect’s noblest creation; it has, on the other hand, often been the un- 
happiest. Sometimes memorials have been erected with a useful pur- 
pose in mind. Indeed, one school would hold that the finest memorial 
must be of some practical benefit to mankind and have some function 
other than pure beauty to justify its existence. Another school believes 


ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE 276 


that a commemorative monument is a sacrifice, that to confuse with it a 
mundane function is to lower its dignity and cloud its true purpose. 

With these conflicting beliefs we need not trouble ourselves. It is 
quite conceivable that a commemorative building might have a useful 
purpose and still be a fitting and inspiring memorial. On the other hand, 
a memorial building which has beauty certainly needs no other justifica- 
tion. On one point only should we insist: such a monument must be beau- 
tiful, more beautiful, if possible, than any other type of building. It 
may be costly or simple, imposing or modest, but beauty it must have, or 
it is a negation of its purpose and an architectural abomination as well. 
A serious danger attaches to projects for such monuments. Their erec- 
tion is an act of sentiment, a fine sentiment usually, but sentiment none 
the less. Admirers of a great character may want to glorify him with 
something ostentatiously costly and thus pitifully defeat their purpose by 
a vulgar display. Small communities of limited means may determine to 
exalt their heroes when they have neither the money to erect fine work, 
nor the taste to demand it. America was scourged by a pest of memorials 
after the Civil War, many a pretty village common being ruined by a 
stock-made granite soldier in forage cap and baggy trousers, pathetically 
attesting the patriotism, the civic pride, the fine spirit, and the execrable 
taste of the inhabitants. The little villages of France to-day are pock- 
marked with hideous memorials, oftentimes the exact model being pur- 
chased, like stock mantles, for many towns, placed there by tiny and poor 
communities through motives which thrill us too deeply for expression, 
but with a taste that fills us with an equal compassion. In deciding on 
a memorial building, above all, we must tread softly, remembering that, 
whatever our motives may be, a building that is ugly or mechanical or in 
any Way meretricious is an insult to the cause or the character that it pur- 
ports to glorify. 

We have no space here to consider large numbers of war memorials 
that are being built or planned for different parts of the country. They 
run from the simplest tablets to great buildings which cost millions. It 
is enough to note that they are as yet fewer than those projected in the 
years immediately after the Civil War, and on the whole very much more 
appropriate and tasteful. 


‘yanyrap ‘adog yjassny uyot ‘vany24p ‘odog yassny uyog, 
“STA YSHIOIS 2y3 jo aJduiay, °D °q ‘NOLONIHSVA “FOZ “OLY “UTA YSHIOIG OY Jo oJduray, "Dp “C ‘NOLONIHSVMA “EQg “OILY 


“Sauiy soyo yy uyof &¢ ydoasojoyg 


“Saury aavyjo. yf uyof Kq ydvs30j047 


ECCLESIASTIC AND MONUMENTAL ARCHITECTURE 277 


This should not lull us to ignoring the danger, however, and be luke- 
warm or indifferent in our fight against the shoddy war memorial. As 
we might imagine, most memorial monuments show a bent for conser- 
vatism, for tranquillity, and for refinement. They are almost invariably 
classical and, since Bernardo Rossellino first demonstrated the superiority 
of classic to Gothic in a sepulchral monument, the bulk of mankind have 
preferred the reposeful style for monuments which are intended to stimu- 
late a feeling of reverence. The excursions into Gothic in this field, like 
the Albert Memorial, have but thrown into bolder relief the superiority 
of the classic. Modernism has occasionally offered a substitute, but noth- 
ing which has yet weaned the great mass of Americans from what they 
seem to consider the national style for this work. 

As a very characteristic example, we may look at the first prize de- 
sign (Fig. 265), submitted by Walker & Weeks, for the Indiana War 
Memorial Competition. Preceded by an obelisk, carried on a terraced 
base, a great rectangular masonry mass is reared. Its angles are solid, its 
facade opened by a colonnade of four Ionic columns. Above is an attic 
and above that a pyramidal stepped roof. The design is conservative, 
even conventional. The effect must depend upon the undeniably fine 
proportions and the refinement of detail which is the birthright of the 
American architect. In theory, a more original scheme, attaining the same 
successes of proportion and refinement, would be better. Practically, how- 
ever, the commission sought a monument restrained, reposeful, impres- 
sive, and beautiful, and they got it. The story of the Indiana competi- 
tion is the story of many other similar attempts to attain worthy designs 
for such a purpose, and it is a story destined to be told many times again. 

One of the most important and most discussed of the great monu- 
mental designs of to-day is the Liberty Memorial at Kansas City, Mo. 
The competition was won by H. Van Buren Magonigle. The winning 
design (Fig. 266) showed a soaring shaft springing from a vigorous base, 
a part of a lofty terrace, with classic buildings symmetrically placed on 
either side. The terrace was broken for the base of the shaft so that it 
stood free of the lateral walls. The shaft was moulded to give it roughly 
the form of an irregular polygon. Near the summit it was embellished 
with heroic figures in rather low relief, breaking slightly the vertical line 
of the profile, and at the top was an urn from which it was planned to 


278 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


permit lighted steam to issue, making a pillar of cloud by day and a pil- 
lar of fire by night. 

As actually built (Fig. 267), the scheme was radically changed. The 
break in the terrace wall was eliminated and the shaft set back so that 
it was on the axis of the lateral buildings. This produced an uninter- 
rupted terrace wall, which the architect planned to decorate with a long 
sculptured frieze. At the same time, it must be admitted that this caused 
the shaft to spring somewhat abruptly from the terrace and destroyed 
the happy feeling of transition from the horizontal base to the vertical 
shaft which the competition drawing displayed. It is hardly fair to judge 
the effect, however, without the frieze. The most pleasing view at pres- 
ent is from the terrace above (Fig. 268), where a magnificent vista leads 
to the shaft, and the eye is not disturbed by the emphasised horizontality 
of the terrace wall. ; 

It is a little too early to judge the success of the Liberty Memorial. 
It has been harshly criticised and as forcibly defended. The stock com- 
plaint is that it bears too close a resemblance to a chimney, and this criti- 
cism was the more wide-spread on account of the pyrotechnic display which 
was designed to issue from its summit and which has, for reasons of econ- 
omy, been abandoned. The relief of the figures near the top is so low 
that they are not very legible at a distance and thus do not play a major 
part in emphasising the monumentality of the shaft. It is fair to say 
that the monument is more impressive in a close view than at a distance. 
It 1s, however, bold, original, monumental in material, and exquisite in 
craftsmanship. Many may deny it complete success, but most will wel- — 
come it as a refreshing attempt to get away from the trite and conven- 
tional in monumental design. 

The greatest, the most typical, and the most famous example of the © 
type in modern America is the Lincoln Memorial in Washington (Figs. 
»269, 270), by the late Henry Bacon. Here, an architect of the great- 
est refinement and the most profound sense of monumentality was given 
the responsibility of designing for America the shrine of one of her two 
universally acknowledged greatest characters. He was given at the same 
time one of the most dignified and beautiful sites in the world, as well 
as one of the most conspicuous. On a hill overlooking the Potomac, 
across the river from Arlington Cemetery, on the axis of the Capitol 


Fic. 265. Inpianapouis, Inp. Indiana War Memorial. Walker & Weeks, Architects. 


Fic. 266. Kansas Crry, Mo. Liberty Memorial: Winning Design; North Elevation. 
H. Van Buren Magonigle, Architect. 


279 


2 
4 
i 


Photograph by PhotolView Co. 
Fic. 267. Kansas Ciry, Mo. Liberty Memorial: The North Front. 
H. Van Buren Magonigle, Architect. 


Photograph byjPhoto View Co. 


Fic. 268. Kansas Crry, Mo. Liberty Memorial: South Front from the Mall. 
H. Van Buren Magonigle, Architect. 


280 


Photograph by Kenneth Ciak, 
Fic. 269. Wasuincton, D.C. Lincoln Memorial. Henry Bacon, Architect. 


: Photograph by Kenneth Clark. 
Fig. 270. Wasuinctron, D.C. Lincoln Memorial. Henry Bacon, Architect. 
281 


282 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


and the Washington Monument, he was invited to rear a monument 
worthy of the place which Abraham Lincoln had attained in the hearts 
of the American people. He reverted to the classic temple form. He 
could hardly have done anything else. Proportion, fine material, beau- 
tiful detail, honest craftsmanship were the aids he called to express his 
ideal. Soundly avoiding all suspicion of elaborate ornament, he turned 
to severe Doric for his great exterior marble colonnade. Above it, an 
entablature incorporates a modified Doric frieze with the arms of the 
States. Above that is a simple and perfectly proportioned attic. Within 
is an hypzthral court, with the colossal statue of Lincoln by Daniel Ches- 
ter French. A little colour is added by some painting in low intensity. 
Right and left, beautifully lettered, are the Gettysburg and Second In- 
augural addresses. The statue looks out past terraced steps and across 
a thousand-foot architectural lagoon, to the Washington Monument and 
the distant dome of the Capitol. It would be hard to imagine anything 
simpler, finer, or more exquisitely appropriate. The universal acclaim 
which the monument has had has been a proof of the success of its de- 
signer and the taste of its admirers. In 1923 * the American Institute 
of Architects staged a colourful yet dignified pageant before the monu- 
ment and, in the evening, as the building was bathed in soft artificial light, 
in the presence of the President of the United States and representatives 
from all the architectural organisations of the country, presented the de- 
signer with the Gold Medal of the Institute. In all the throng there 
was no jealous voice to call it undeserved. 

Before we leave the subject of the national memorial, there is one 
very important building projected which should be mentioned. ‘This is 
the Roosevelt Memorial, for Washington, the competition being won by 
John Russell Pope. The backers of the scheme selected as the site the 
place opposite the White House, across the long axis which connects the 
Lincoln Memorial, the Washington Monument, and the Capitol. It is 
probably the most conspicuous and important site yet available in Wash- 
ington, and opposition has been raised to using it for a figure recently — 
deceased—even so great a figure as that of Theodore Roosevelt. Whether 
the monument will ever be placed there is uncertain. Whether the monu- 
ment which won the competition would be suitable, if placed somewhere 


* The monument was actually completed in 1922. 


Photography John Wallace Gillies, 


Fic. 271. Wasutncron, D.C. Proposed Roosevelt Memorial: Model. 
Fohn Russell Pope, Architect. 


Photograph by John Wallace Gillies. 


Fic, 272. Wasuincton, D.C. Proposed Roosevelt Memorial: Model of Colonnade. 
Fohn Russell Pope, Arch 


283 


284 THE “AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


else, would of course depend upon the character of the new site. All 
we can do, therefore, is to examine the architect’s winning design, which 
will assure him the commission for the building, whether it be this one 


or another, and see what more it tells us of the tendencies of American 


monumental design. Though it is more unusual and original than the 
Lincoln Memorial, it confirms what we have observed (Fig. 29T Jele 
is severely classic, exquisitely refined, and gets its effect by monumen- 
tality and proportion. It is, however, distinctly novel in conception, being 


a colossal fountain. In the centre of a beautifully designed architectural 


pool one enormous jet is projected upward to the height of a hundred 
‘and more feet. The pool is framed by paths and by two quarter sections 
of a circular Doric colonnade (Fig. 272), leaving the view open through 
half the area enclosed. About the area is a parkway, formally treated. 
The unique feature of the scheme is its combination of restraint and 
imagination. The low colonnades do not screen the view of the Vir- 
ginia hills from the White House, and are themselves of the quietest 
and severest design. The pools are tranquil and reposeful features. Only 
the enormous jet, aptly symbolising the terrific vitality and force of the 
man commemorated, contrasts with the refined tranquillity of the en- 
semble. Itself a striking feature, it marks an essential axis without con- 
cealing a vista. There are obvious mechanical difficulties in the way of 
completing and continuing such a monument. With these we have no 
concern, nor with the argument about the site. It is enough to note one 
more example of refinement, of classic tranquillity, in a great American 
monument, designed as a permanent and dignified memorial. 


nS al ES, 


[ERCIAL ARCHITECTURE 


a 


. 


hy 


IV 
COMMERCIAL ARCHITECTURE 


WHEN we turn from the monumental to the commercial buildings of 
modern America we approach a problem the most complicated and in 
some ways the most interesting in our review. The mass of material is 
So enormous that we can only examine a few examples as characteristic 
of tendencies, and much of the field must remain untouched. At the 
outset we meet the difficulty of the relation of the architect and engineer. 
Just what constitutes architecture? A large office-building or department 
store is almost invariably built by an architect and may properly fall 
within our domain, but should we so classify a power-plant, built by an 
engineer with no architect associated? A monumental memorial bridge, 
such as McKim, Mead & White are now designing for Washington, is 
obviously architecture. Is the same true of a steel railway bridge, purely 
functional and entirely unadorned, and designed by an engineer whose 
sole aim has been a structure which can carry trains adequately, efficiently, 
and safely? | 

The word architecture comes from the Greek apyitectoua, or “chief 
building,” as the word architect comes from the Greek apyitextov, or “chief 
builder.” Thus, if we regarded the derivation, we should include un- 
der architecture all building. On the other hand, the modern word has 
come to have a more restricted meaning. Perhaps the best definition is 
the simplest; architecture is beautiful building. Since beauty is an ab- 
stract concept, and often a matter of opinion, this definition is not so 
helpful as it should be, but it is the best we have. Under it we have, 
without saying so, excluded many works that would ordinarily be called 
architecture. Under it, in turn, we may accept works that normally would 
be termed engineering, for many great factories and plants have an un- 
deniable beauty despite the severely practical aim of the designers. If 
an engineer, meeting a special problem in a purely scientific way, pro- 
duces a building of beauty, he has produced architecture. He may do 
it unconsciously, he may even resent the implication that he has done it 
at all, but he cannot escape the fact. This does not mean that all fac- 


287 


reeveee esp eteiie?- 
roy eee er ee ee Be 


Ake 


Sketch by Hugh Ferriss: 


Fic. 273. East Sr. Louis, Mo. Cahokia Power Station. 
Mauran, Russell 8 Crowell, Consulting Architects. 


Fic. 274. Wuuire Crry, Coto. Cold-Storage Plant. 8. Scott Foy, Architect, 
288 


COMMERCIAL ARCHITECTURE 289 


tories are beautiful. Alas, the great majority of them are hideous, but 
there remain many, designed by engineers, by engineers and architects 
associated, and even by great architects in full control, which have the 
element of beauty as well as practicality and which we can be proud to 
include in the category of American architecture. 

To begin with the severest and most intensely practical, let us con- 
sider the question of power-plants and factories and see if they may not 
be admitted creditably to the architectural class. Some are by well-known 
architects, and one of the most encouraging aspects of the art to-day is 
the way clients are beginning to realise that the architect’s knowledge of 
planning can save him money in designing a factory.* One of the most 
important functions of an architect is to plan ingeniously to meet special 
conditions and, if an engineer does this in a building, he becomes—tem- 
porarily, at least—an architect. Moreover, the conditions of air, light, 
orderly arrangement, make for beauty and, as we have seen, even the com- 
mercial value of beauty, for its effect on client, employee, and casual ob- 
server is more and more being recognised. 

Let us look, for example, at the Cahokia Power Station, near East St. 
Louis, Mo. (Fig. 273), by McClellan & Junkersfield, Inc., engineers, 
and Mauran, Russell & Crowell, consulting architects. Built up from 
the river in terraces of steel and ferroconcrete, vertically buttressed with 
great concrete strips that increase in scale with every block, pierced with 
great verticals of glass and crowned with four pairs of enormous chim- 
neys, it would be difficult to find a more impressive structure. Call it 
engineering, if you will. Gustave Doré would have revelled in it, and 
the American who, on account of its purely utilitarian purpose, denies it 
a place in the great architecture of his country, is a man of small taste 
and less vision. 

A power-plant has a certain romance, however, for those who have 
imagination. It suggests the titanic forces of nature controlled by the 
genius of man and, if it be on a large scale, it can hardly lack a certain 
grandeur. Let us look, therefore, at a still less promising type. Noth- 
ing less romantic could be imagined than a cold-storage plant, yet, if we 
observe the one designed by S. Scott Joy for the White City Cold Storage 


* For a most illuminating discussion of the whole problem, see a series of articles by 
George C. Nimmons in the Architectural Record, 1918 and 1919. 


Fic. 275. Cuicaco, Itt. Pennsylvania Freight Terminal. 
McLanahan & Bencker, Architects. 


Fic. 276. Cuicaco, Int. Pennsylvania Freight Terminal. 
McLanahan & Bencker, Architects. 


290 


COMMERCIAL ARCHITECTURE 291 


Company, Colorado (Fig. 274), we cannot deny its architectural character. 
Here are no soaring chimneys, no picturesque terraced masses, no great 
windows with flashing glass. The building is a great block, but its but- 
tressed walls, its enormous sense of scale, give it an inspiring power. Two 
lines of white to mark the base, spots of white to accent the bases and the 
tops of the buttresses, and a simple, white moulding at the top of the wall 
are all the “ornament” the designer has used. Their cost was negligible 
but they accent exactly the functional construction of the building. Again, 
we are conscious of the sternest practicality and a certain real beauty as well. 

Another building of the most prosaic purpose and the most practical 
design is the Chicago Freight Terminal (Fig. 275), by McLanahan & 
Bencker. It is low, designed in simple masses, heavily buttressed, and 
pierced with small windows. The material is brick and all conventional 
ornament is avoided. The result is not bareness, but a fortresslike dig- 
nity. The great tower (Fig. 276), which has a functional purpose, adds 
to the forceful effect of the whole. The pile is severe, even forbidding, 
but no one would call it dull. Yet we seldom associate a freight terminal 
with architecture. 

From this we may turn to the office-building of the Hudson Motor 
Car Company, at Detroit (Fig. 277), by Albert Kahn. Given a large 
area, the design is a horizontal one in two stories. The inner steel con- 
struction is frankly admitted. The angle piers are channelled, the friezes 
—if we may give them so academic a name—of the shallow pavilions 
are decorated with medallions in low relief. The attic (again we use 
the old term in lieu of a better) is topped with a simple parapet, and its 
under edge is picked out with rectangular blocks like the old Greek den- 
til range. Everything is in keeping, everything quiet, and the ornament 
is consciously designed for the expression of a practical structure. Econ- 
omy is manifest at the first glance, but not poverty, either of means or of 
imagination. 

We do not wish to stress the work of any one man, but it is hard, at 
this point, not to mention the building for the Detroit Evening News 
(Fig. 278), again by Albert Kahn. This is a typical example of re- 
vealed steel construction in a building of the horizontal and not skyscraper 
type. The ground story is arcaded, with buttresses between, which run 
up to the attic and mark the course of the main steel columns. Above are 
rows of windows in pairs of three, corresponding to the arcades below. 


|Photograph Ei hnvds Rilsron. 


Fic. 277. Derrorr, Micu. Hudson Motor Car Company Office Building. 
Albert Kahn, Architect. 


Courtesy of the:Detroit “Evening News.” : 


Fic. 278. Derroir, Micu. Detroit Evening News Building. Albert Kahn, Architect. 
292 


Howard Shaw, Architect. 


Plant. 


ing 


. 


int 


Pri 


Donnelly & Sons 


Cuicaco, ILL. 


Fic. 279. 


lbert, Architect. 


1 


Cass G 


U. S. Army Supply Base. 


SoutH Brook tyn, N. Y. 


. 280. 


Fic 


293 


294 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


The proportions of arcades, windows, and attic are exceptionally fine. 
The ornament, classic in feeling, but modern in design, is sparing and 
appropriate. One senses immediately the lightness, airiness, and func- 
tional practicality of the work, while one delights in its proportions and 
refinement. It avoids any archzologising and lavish parade and attains 
the finer art. 

Another superb example of the same type is the R. R. Donnelley & 
Sons Co. Printing Plant at Chicago (Fig. 279), by the late Howard 
Shaw. Here the material is reinforced concrete with dark-red brick and 
Indiana limestone for the exterior. Once more the main steel lines are 
emphasised and great windows are opened from base to cornice between 
the rhythmic buttresses. The angles are reinforced with what appear as 
rugged pylons, but flush with the wall, their use as isolated passages for 
vertical communication revealed by the windows on one side. The build- 
ing 1s topped with an arcade, far more effective than the old-fashioned 
cornice. ‘The arches are pointed, but it would be as absurd to call the 
design Gothic as it would be to call the Cahokia power-plant classic be- 
cause of its accent on horizontality. The modern designer has not only 
passed beyond archeology, he has even overcome the fear of being accused 
of it, and is free to get his ideas from any source, provided only that they 
be appropriate to the work in hand. | 

We cannot linger too long over this very practical type of architec- 
ture. One more example will be illuminating, however, tae prove what 
an effect sheer mass, coupled with fine proportion, can do in a building 
so sternly practical as almost to parade its desire not to be regarded as 
a work of art. We refer to the U. S. Army Supply Base, at South Brouk- 
lyn, N. Y. (Fig. 280), by Cass Gilbert. This is purely in reinforced 
concrete. Every detail of ornament, every suggestion of the amenities 
which we associate with the fine art of architecture is ruthlessly excluded. 
Mass it has, and line, and fearless honesty. These it could have and 
still be ugly, but these are used not only to permit it to fulfil its function 
but to make it beautiful as well. We should look in vain for refinement; 
indeed, that quality would be incongruous in an army supply base. On 
the other hand, we look in vain for coarseness, or vulgarity, or the blatant 
revelation of a crass commercialism. The building has dignity, power, 
and a self-sufficiency that is neither boastful nor unconscious. 

Bridges offer a difficult subject in our review. They may be divided 


COMMERCIAL ARCHITECTURE | 296 


into those, the point of view of which is purely engineering, and those 
that are primarily monumental. If these categories were clearly marked 
the problem would be simple, but they overlap. As we have seen, the 
railroad bridges of the engineer often have beauty and the most purely 
monumental bridge has its traffic function to solve, without which it would 
be an absurdity. Indeed, one of the beauties of any bridge is the ob- 
server’s feeling that it is satisfying a need. No matter how monumen- 
tal it may be, Sir John Vanbrugh’s bridge at Blenheim will always be 
laughable in that it is designed in scale for a Roman army and crosses 
one shallow arm of a body of water that it makes appear no larger than 
a duck-pond. All that we can do is to examine one or two examples of 
the general types, showing how the engineer’s work may be beautiful, 
how the architect’s may be practical, and how the two types tend to merge. 
The engineering type is apt to be of suspension or cantilever design, the 
monumental supported on piers of masonry and the spans arranged on 
the principle of the true arch. The rule is not invariable, however, and 
oftentimes our modern reinforced concrete affords the appearance of the 
latter and not its fact. In such case we are dealing not with an architec- 
tural deception but the appropriate use of a new medium. 

The era of great bridge-building opened, we might say, with the 
Brooklyn Bridge in New York. This engineering triumph, achieved in 
1883, by John A. Roebling and W. A. Roebling & Sons, was justly hailed 
as an epoch-making work. Attention was concentrated naturally upon 
the physical aspect of the bridge, the tremendous difficulties overcome, 
and the miracle of science which it embodied. There were not lacking 
many, however, who were conscious of the extraordinary beauty of the 
structure, the power of its mighty piers, the swinging curve of its huge 
cables, and the lacelike pattern of its web of supporting antenne. Here, 
if ever, a bridge was a great work of engineering and of art. It set the 
type and, since then, a number of great suspension bridges have been de- 
signed,* equal triumphs in engineering, though sometimes not the peers 
of the original from the xsthetic point of view. Any such bridge, how- 
ever, by the very nature of its scale and construction cannot but be impres- 
sive and have grace as well. 


* Witness the Williamsburgh Bridge (1903), the Queensboro Bridge (1909), and 
the Manhattan Bridge (1909), all in New York. ‘To Palmer & Hornbostel belongs the 


lion’s share of credit for these works. 


PNY IAP “JosD “gq [nv {ssoaursuq U°G KT puv “4ISqa*S *D 
‘oSplig JOATYy osemepq -f- N ‘N3aWNVD  ‘ZQz ‘OLY 


“sysalpopy *y 


"SIIONYIAP “J91SOQUAOTT G) sauyvg ysin “saaulzug qoysuepury avjsny 
‘SPUg 3D [PH “X'N “UOX MIN “1 8Z “OLY 
“uossuyol - 4d] 


vy &q ydvssojoyg 


296 


ey ae bag an, 


Fic. 283. Boston, Mass. Proposed New Harvard Bridge. 
Andrews, Fones, Biscoe & Whitmore, Architects. 


N sim Al] Ka) 4p et IF 
Dt AWANAWAN AWA VAVANPAWAN I VANPASVANVAN UI 9ACANVAVAN YAVANVAVANVAWAN |" 


Fo eed pe SN ee ~ Fc rn ff On er te ec ee pl we eee 
BROOKLYN BRIDGE WILLIAMSBURGH BRIDGE 
OPENED MAY 24,1683 OPENED DECEMBER 19.1905 


SCALE IN FEET 


Ba eta ie ene am de Seo rie Smeg A IG Se aw ei span ada em Opohee teboee ves apap 


DELAWARE RIVER BRIDGE 


Seater =) 7G ico) mares oe se Nea oe 


QUEENSBORO BRIDGE MANHATTAN BRIDGE 
OPENED MARCH 30,1909 OPENED DECEMBER 3i, 1909 


Fic. 284. Comparative Bridge Designs. 


297 


298 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


For a more intensely practical and severe modern work we might turn 
to the Hell Gate Bridge across the Harlem River in New York, designed 
by Gustav Lindenthal, with Palmer & Hornbostel as architects (Fig. 281), 
and opened in 1917. It was built purely for train service. Cantilever 
construction was used, and the striking feature was the great steel arch 
thrown across to span the entire river. We may be assured that that arch, 
costing millions, and constructed to carry the traffic of several railroads, 
was designed with an eye to engineering efficiency and not to beauty. Here 
was a case, if ever, where art would have to wait on science; yet when 
the bridge was done it was a very beautiful thing. It is a mistake to 
suppose that engineering efficiency imposes a functional and accidentally 
a graceful line and mass. Works of sound science and proved engineer- 
ing efficiency, yet atrocious to the eye, exist in dismal numbers. Good 
engineering may, however, produce great art, and is the more apt to do 
so as the scale increases. Indeed, we suggest, though it cannot be proved, 
that the best engineering will produce work of beauty. In any case, we 
insist that the Hell Gate Bridge, a work with no pretense to other than 
engineering expression, is a thing of beauty. 

Were we to follow the line suggested by this work it would take us 
too far afield and we must confine our attention to bridges of a more 
strictly architectural character. For the simplest type we have already 
seen how effective can be the concrete bridge, with bare piers and arches 
and practically no ornament at all, when we observed the bridge which 
spanned the ravine leading to the grounds of the San Diego Exposition 
(Fig. 52). Goodhue had designed a more elaborate structure, but rea- 
sons of economy imposed the simpler construction. 

Examples of the concrete bridge built along the lines of the older, 
true-arched type are legion. At random we select one by Andrews, Jones, 
Biscoe & Whitmore (Fig. 283), designed to replace the present ugly 
steel Harvard Bridge which joins Boston with Cambridge, Mass.* Here 
the basin is shallow, the interval to be spanned very wide, and water 
trafic limited to small boats. Consequently the designers have suggested 
a low bridge of nine arches, built out from artificial promontories treated 
as parks. The flattened arches are given a graceful parabolic curve, so 


*It has recently been decided, for reasons of economy, to retain the old bridge, so the 
design we reproduce will probably never be more than one on paper. 


COMMERCIAL ARCHITECTURE 299 


that, with the greatest economy of material, the roadway may be kept 
level. Suggestions for such designs are found in large numbers in Eu- 
rope. We have in mind particularly Ammanati’s Ponte Triniti at Flor. 
ence, the father of a numerous progeny. Such a type lacks the grandeur 
of the lofty and wide arch, and has been called derisively the frozen 
caterpillar bridge, but under the conditions outlined it is entirely appro- 
priate and can be made very graceful and beautiful. 

One of the most ambitious designs for a modern great suspension 
bridge is the one just constructed to span the Delaware River from Phila- 
delphia, Pa., to Camden, N. J. It is designed both for motor traffic 
and street-cars and rivals the Queensboro and Manhattan Bridges in New 
York in the volume (Fig. 284) which it carries. Unlike these two, how- 
ever, it is not double-decked, so its roadway has to be very broad.* It 
carries six lanes of motor traffic and four of street-cars. The piers are 
60 feet wide, a span of 1,750 feet from centre to centre of the piers is 
required, and the floorway at any point may be called upon to bear a 
moving weight of 30 tons. The board of engineers who reported on 
the work were Ralph Modjeski, George S. Webster, and Lawrence A. 
Ball. The actual architectural design was done by Paul P. Cret. A gen- 
eral sketch of the bridge (Fig. 282) shows its breathless daring and its 
great grace as well. The anchors (Fig. 285), massive as fortresses, would 
seem frail were it not for the tenuity of the great steel antennz which 
they restrain. The architectural details are bold, yet once again they show 
that refinement which is such a precious thing in American architecture. 
Unlike the older type of the Brooklyn Bridge, the central pier supports 
are of steel, giving additional lightness to the whole design. The sketch 
reveals this and suggests, as well, the tremendous daring of the span. 

To conclude our discussion of bridges with one of an entirely dif- 
ferent type, we turn to the beautiful classic design made by McKim, Mead 
& White for Washington, D. C. (Fig..286). It-is to cross the Potomac, 
near the Lincoln Memorial, and will be one more monumental addition to 
the great ensemble of architecture in the Capital. Here dignity, repose, 
and the feeling of permanence were essential. No modern steel, no sus- 
pension work could adjoin the Lincoln Memorial. As a result the bridge 


* One hundred and twenty-five feet six inches. The Manhattan Bridge, its nearest 
rival in this respect, is 123 feet broad. 


Fic. 285. Campen, N. J. Delaware River Bridge: Philadelphia Anchorage Looking Northwest. 
R. Modjeski, G. S. Webster, and L. A. Ball, Engineers; Paul P. Cret, Architect. 


Fic. 286. Wasutncron, D. C. Arlington Memorial Bridge. 
McKim, Mead & White, Architects ; Colonel C. O. Sherrill, Chief Engineer. 


300 


COMMERCIAL ARCHITECTURE 301 


is low, of many arches, segments of hemispheres to keep the roadway low 
and level. The detail is to be crisp, but the design is chastely simple. 
Statuary will appear, sparingly used, to mark the great piers. Otherwise 
the line of the roadway will be unbroken. These two, the Delaware and 
the Arlington Bridges, can stand for the two types of daring engineering 
with architectural beauty and of pre-eminent monumentality with perfect 
functional fitness. 

Nothing is more inspiring in modern American architecture than the 
way the railroad-station has been developed. Not long ago it would have 
been considered absurd to attempt to make a railroad-station beautiful. 
The public was used to smoke, gas, dirt, gaunt steel beams, befouled glass, 
and dingy platforms, and considered these the logical concomitants of 
the railway terminal. For a long time the designers were so preoccupied 
with the problems of getting the trains in and out safely and of loading 
and discharging passengers that the thought of beauty never entered their 
heads. This attitude stil] prevails in some parts of the country and is 
common in Europe. Generally in America, however, a determined effort 
is being made to make our railway-stations beautiful as well as convenient, 
and to give the entering stranger a first impression which will charm and 
not repel. So elaborate are some of our greater terminals that we have 
been accused of vulgar lavishness in commercial enterprise. Such criti- 
cism, naturally, we can ignore, and anything which will tend to make more 
beautiful the surroundings in daily life of a million citizens we can wel- 
come with enthusiasm. 

The difficulty of the problem makes its successful solution the more 
creditable. Many trains must be brought in and out swiftly and on 
scheduled time. Vast numbers of passengers must be allowed to enter 
and depart without the traffic lanes crossing one another in a confusing 
manner. Ticket-offices must be conveniently placed to handle not only 
normal sale but rush orders, when hordes of impatient travellers arrive 
simultaneously and must be provided for immediately or miss their trains. 
The bureau of information must be placed where none can miss it. Large 
waiting-rooms must exist for those who come early or wait between trains. 
Elaborate and roomy communication must be arranged for those who come 
and go, either as pedestrians or in vehicles, and everything must be done 
with an eye to the greatest speed and the least confusion, for our Ameri- 


« 
E? 


Be 


Pennsylvania Station. 


Grand Central Station. 


Warren {8 Wetmore, Architects. 


New York, N. Y. 


Fic. 288. 


New York, N. Y. 
McKim, Mead & White, Architects. 


Fic. 287. 


COMMERCIAL ARCHITECTURE 303 


can citizen of to-day, either from necessity or force of habit, is always 
in a hurry. When one considers the complicated physical difficulties in 
the design of a railway-station one wonders that beauty ever came to be 
considered at all. 

Bearing this in mind, let us look at the grand concourse of the Penn- 
sylvania Railroad Station at New York (Fig. 287), by McKim, Mead & 
White. One is almost awed by its spaciousness, its dignity, and its vast 
scale. Its design is Roman classical, recalling directly the baths of Cara- 
calla, and it has often been attacked as being too archeological. Here 
again, 1f a Roman bath can suggest a design most apt for a terminal con- 
course, it is hard to blame an architect for adopting the suggestion. A 
far more pertinent criticism would attack the congruity of the original for 
a bath. Whatever the source, the designers have given us one of the most 
impressive interiors in the country and one that will stimulate the imagi- 
nation and elevate the mood of every passenger who enters it. On the 
other hand, as planning, the Pennsylvania Station does not live up to the 
promise of its concourse. The multiple exits discharge the passengers 
easily and quickly, but any one who has tried to meet an incoming friend 
will know how confusing they are. The long promenade from the facade 
to the concourse is also of dubious value. — 

New York’s other great station, the Grand Central, finished in 1913 
by Warren & Wetmore, is an even greater achievement. Its exterior is 
not so imposing as that of its rival, and the scale of the central group of 
statuary is disturbing to say the least. The planning, however, is far 
superior. Trains enter, load and unload, and depart with clocklike regu- 
larity. Multitudes of passengers come and go with so little confusion 
that their numbers seem few. The most absent-minded can find his train 
without hesitation, and every incoming train with its exit is so neatly han- 
dled and clearly announced that one can meet a friend almost without 
effort on the most crowded day. The chief glory of the Grand Central 
is its concourse (Fig. 288). Here thére is no archxology. Enormous 
square piers, without capitals, go up to support a cornice and a huge plas- 
ter vault. The vault is painted light blue, with the signs of the Zodiac ~ 
in light dull gold for decoration. The scheme is daring in the extreme 
and as successful as it is bold. In the centre the information bureau, 
circular so that it can be approached from all sides, advertises itself as 


304 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


one enters from any direction. The details of ticket-offices, check-rooms, 
telegraph-offices, etc., are in fine marble, as crisply and simply designed 
as possible. The whole interior is original in conception and of the great- 
est beauty as well. The writer was never prouder of his country’s archi- 
tecture than one day when he entered this concourse with a cultivated 
young Englishman and heard his delighted comment that at last he had 
found a race that had not only the taste, but the sense, to make a railway- 
station as beautiful as a palace or a cathedral. — 

We must not imply, however, that the great railway-stations are con- 
fined to New York. One of the greatest and one of the best planned is 
the Union Station in Chicago, by Graham, Anderson, Probst & White. 
Its exterior (Fig. 289) is both pleasing and practical. A long, Tuscan 
colonnade dignifies the facade and offers instant shelter for any one en- 
tering the building. The waiting-room (Fig. 290) is treated simply, but 
with reasonable richness, by a Corinthian order and a great steel and glass 
skylight. As at the Grand Central, the information desk is in the cen- 
tre, this time not of the concourse, but of the waiting-room. The thing 
that impresses one particularly is the frank revelation of the steel. No 
attempt has been made to clothe the steel in another material (Fig. 291). 
It springs from the marble floor and rises to support a steel and glass 
roof, yet it is graceful in its lines and curves so that one is not disturbed 
by its harshness or engineering frankness but accepts it as a beautiful part 
of the design. Here, again, we have the union of the practical and the 
beautiful. tae 

These have all been stations on a large scale, in great metropolitan 
centres, erected at the cost of millions. Were they the only creditable 
railway-stations being erected in the country we could not be so optimis- 
tic as we are. The same taste, however, which has produced so much 
beauty in the greatest terminals is producing the same sort of thing in 
a more modest scale elsewhere. Let us look, for example, at the Union 
Station at Richmond, Va., by John Russell Pope. Its exterior (Fig. 292) 
is a charming composition with a central Doric colonnade and attic, sim- 
ple, well-proportioned wings, and a dome in the centre, low and harmo- 
niously related to the rest of the building. Such a work is a beautiful 
monument and a credit to the city. As one enters the waiting-room (Fig. 
293) one has the same impression of restful charm and dignity. The 


SPinsgrayd by Tebbs te Knell, New York. 


Fic. 289. Cuicaco, Itt. Union Station: Canal Street Facade. 
Graham, Anderson, Probst & White, Architects. 


Photograph by Tebbs &F Knell, New York. Photograph by Tebbs 8 Knell, New York. 
Fic. 290. Main Waiting-Room. Fic. 291. Secondary Concourse. 


Cuicaco, Itt. Union Station. Graham, Anderson, Probst & White, Architects. 


395 


306 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


glory of the American station is that it seems to take care of the hurry- 
ing, bustling passenger moiselessly. It envelops him, it informs him, it 
expedites his movements, but its spacious interiors swallow the noise he 
makes and its great scale reduces his nervous rushing about to a trifle. 
There is no place, short of the stock exchange, where nerves are more on 
edge than in a railroad-station, and it is the more remarkable and happy 
that these are being designed not only to function perfectly but to quiet 
and to soothe. | 

Had we the time we could see the same good work extended to sta- 
tions all over the country. Many ugly ones are still designed, of course, 
but better and better work is being done and, what is more encouraging, 
many of the old atrocities are being remodelled. In conclusion, we might 
glance at a southwestern example just to remind ourselves of how aptly 
the Spanish style is being used in this type as well. It is the attractive 
little station at Ajo, in Arizona, by Kenyon and Maine ( Fig. 294)—a well- 
planned, well-composed, and entirely appropriate building. Here once 
more the West shows its local individuality and falls into harmony with 
the general tendency to make the railway-station an object of beauty as 
well as utility. 

Any discussion of American commercial building must include a ref- 
erence to shops, both great and small, but here the subject is so vast 
that it would require a separate volume to begin to do it justice. Noth- 
ing 1s more characteristic of America than the department store. There 
are such stores abroad, but in nothing like the numbers in America, and 
usually based upon the American type. A building for one of these 
great shops must almost house a community. In designing it, the archi- 
tect must think of light, of air, of window display, of varying proportions 
of rooms and stories to assist the sale of various kinds of objects. Ob- 
viously, one can sell gloves in a room that would not be suitable for the 
sale of tapestries, but the shopper rarely stops to consider the fact. Were 
it not considered by the architect, we should soon be aware of it, how- 
ever, and would probably shop elsewhere. As always, communications 


are important and large areas of the building, of which the shopper is 


blissfully unaware, must be devoted to services for receiving, unpacking, 
and shipping goods. All this must be arranged for rapid, smooth hand- 
ling. One parcel misdirected often means a lost customer and the man- 


a? 7—< iv 
oe tele we SS 4 


Photograph by John Wallace Gillies. 


Fic. 292. Ricumonp, Va. 
Union Station. 
Fohn Russell Pope, Architect. 


Fic. 293. RicHmonp, Va. 
Union Station. 


Fohn Russell Pope, Architect. 


Photograph by John Wallace Gillies. 


Fic. 294. Aro, Ariz. Railroad Station. W.M. Kenyon and M. F. Maine, Architects. 
3°97 


308 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


agement and the architect are aware of this fact. Rooms of all sorts must 
be devised ; lunch-rooms, for example, with their kitchen service; so that 
the problem approaches that of the hotel. The best big stores provide 
lunch-rooms, rest-rooms, and recreation-rooms for the employees. In- 
deed, the architect of the great department store is almost a community- 
planner. 

Examples of the type are so common and so well known that it al- 
most seems superfluous to quote them. Any inhabitant of a large Amer- 
ican city is aware of one that he can study and, if he will enter it with an 
eye to understanding its architectural problems, instead of merely to pur- 
chase goods, he can learn a great deal by observation. : 

As a modern, a refined, and orderly example we might select Lord & 
Taylor’s (Fig. 295), in New York, by Starrett & Van Vleck, completed 
in 1914. Here the steel supports are revealed, though they are scarcely 
an integral part of the design. At the base they are broken by broad hori- 
zontal windows for display. The masses of smooth masonry right and 
left of the arched entrance and the masses at the angles give the eye a 
sense of support for the upper stories. The detail is refined, and in this, 
as in so many other types, we note that steady trend of American archi- 
tecture away from the coarse, the careless, and the florid. 

A very different type is the great addition to Macy’s (Fig. 296), in 
New York, made by Robert D. Kohn & Associates. Here we meet a 
new type of design, caused by the New York Zoning Law, of which we 
shall have more to say later. It is enough now to note the scale, the pic- 
turesque relation of masses, the economy and practicality yet the fine effec- 
tiveness of the design. The problem is the old one but it is met in a new 
way and the department store falls into line with the most up-to-date ten- 
dencies of the architecture of New York. 

Certain stores by their function require a more dignified and refined 
appearance than others. When a firm of jewellers like Tiffany & Co. 
moved to new quarters, they commissioned McKim, Mead & White to 
design their building. As might be expected, the design was dignified, 
refined, and severely classical (Fig. 297). A firm selling precious jewels 
and works of art, catering to a wealthy and discriminating clientéle, re- 
quired a building which should be monumental, itself a work of art, and 
marked by refinement. It called in artists who could fulfil this ideal and 
created an aristocrat among shops. 


Photograph by Enaman. 


Fic. 295. New York, N. Y. ea 
Lord & Taylor’s Building. Fic. 296. NEw YORK; N. vt Addition to 


; Department Store of R. H. Macy & Co. 
Starrett & Van Vleck, Architects. 
me Architects Robert D. Kohn & Associates, Architects. 


Photograph by L. H. Dreyer, New York. Photograph by Drix Duryea. 


Fic. 297. New Yorx,N. Y. Tiffany Building. Fic. 298. New York, N. Y. Macmillan Building. 
McKim, Mead & White, Architects. Carrere S Hastings and Shreve §8 Lamb, Architects. 


399 


310 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


Of much the same refinement, though greater originality in treatment, 
1s the Macmillan Building, in New York (Fig. 298), by Carrére & Has- 
tings and Shreve & Lamb. Here, again, a dignified and long-established 
publishing house would want to avoid vulgarity and ostentation. At the 
same time, it would welcome the cultivated expression of fine material 
finely used, and would be glad of a certain up-to-date originality in its 
dwelling. This it got. Fine stone is used for the exterior, but its lines 
reveal that it clothes steel. The base is heavy, pierced with large win- 
dows, and dignified on the Fifth Avenue side by two pairs of Ionic col- 
umns. he angles are marked by pierlike walls of smooth ashlar, flanked 
by broad strips of superposed windows. Between the angles the windows 
are narrower, and slender piers of stone, obviously concealing steel, are 
carried through to the.roof-line.. The cumbrous cornice 6f a generation 
ago 1s happily suppressed in favour of a simple parapet. The result is 
a dignified and refined structure, yet smart and up-to-date. Such a work 
once more emphasises the modern American tendency towards refinement 


and restrained richness in architecture, as well as originality and the elimi-_ 


nation, after due thought, of illogical features inherited from the past. 
From this we can turn to the smaller shops, or shop fronts. Here the 
varieties are bewildering and the tendencies legion. A few, however, it 
is easy to analyse. One noticeable thing is the attempt, often conspicu- 
ously successful, to reveal in the front of the building the character of 
the goods it offers. Obviously, a store for jewelry, flowers, or candy 
‘should not have the same character as one for the sale of sporting-goods 
or books. Another tendency is to take advantage of modern steel con- 
struction to allow a plate-glass front to display the goods and tempt the 
purchaser. Sometimes this is got at an apparent denial of support to the 
upper stories, which is disturbing. Too large areas of glass are hard to 
handle but, when well composed, these great first-story windows can be 
fine. This is especially so when they have been designed intelligently to 
allow the shopkeeper to make his window display a work of art prop- 
erly enframed. A good window display is a work of art. The window- 
dressers of such a firm as Yamanaka, in New York, show their Oriental 
cunning in colourful and harmonious arrangement and are true artists. It 
is to the credit of the public taste that the window display which is an artis- 
tic success is also a commercial one. It sells goods. Here the architect 


COMMERCIAL ARCHITECTURE AUT 


can give his client material aid, while exercising his talent as well; nor 
should he, nor any one else, ever despise a commission to do a shop. The 
“commercialisation” of art in America is one of its happiest features. 

Another characteristic which we might observe is the tendency to- 
wards “modernism” or vice versa. A small shop is not like a church, or 
even a bank; it does not take itself too seriously. Oftentimes it is will- 
ing to be eccentric for the advertising value of eccentricity. One often, 
therefore, gets effects of originality in shop fronts that one will find 
nowhere else. Sometimes these are vulgar, sometimes laughable, but 
often interesting and fine. On the other hand, there are shops that are 
conservative, that lean towards the historic styles and seek to prove them- 
selves a part of an ancient community of inherited traditions and respect- 
ability. These and a hundred other conditions go to make the variety 
of the type which we can examine only in a few random examples, noting 
several ways in which the problems are solved, several of the tendencies 
which we have sketched, and, above all, the improvement in design, re- 
finement, thought, and imagination which the shop fronts of to-day show 
over those of a generation ago. 

For the exquisitely refined and conservative type, we might select the 
building for Chickering & Sons, in Boston (Fig. 299), now unfortunately 
remodelled, by Richardson, Barott & Richardson. It is of brick and lime- 
stone, frankly in the Early Republican style, and is as delicate and charm- 
ing as a dwelling. One feels distinguished merely to enter it. For an old, 
established firm, engaged in the manufacture and sale of pianos, nothing 
could be happier. Moreover, when one notes the attention that the build- 
ing attracts from those persons who might have the means to buy pianos, 
one is inclined to add that nothing could be shrewder. For the same sort of 
thing in an entirely different style, we reproduce a building in Los Angeles, 
by Morgan, Walls & Clements (Fig. 300). It is designed as an art shop, 
and the Southwesterners have selected their beloved Spanish style. It ex- 
presses perfectly the function of the building, gives it prestige, and makes 
it a work of art to house the works of art which it is its function to sell. 

As an example of more modern treatment but one in which the great- 
est stress is laid upon refinement and the clean-cut, chaste use of fine ma- 
terial, we might select an art shop in East 56th Street, New York, done 
by Trowbridge & Ackerman (Fig. 301). The building is narrow. In 


PAB EDERLS LS PL HEE Sor 


Photograph by Thess ‘Isa 


Fic. 299. Boston, Mass. 
Chickering Building, as It Formerly Appeared. 
Richardson, Barott & Richardson, Architects. 


Fic. 301. New York, N. Y. 
Art Shop. 56th Street. 
Trowbridge {8 Ackerman, Architects. 


312 


Fic. 300. Los AncExes, Catir. 
Van Nuys Building. 
Morgan, Walls & Clements, Architects. 


Fic. 302. New York, N. Y. 
Maillard’s Shop. 
Cross & Cross, Architects. 


COMMERCIAL ARCHITECTURE 313 


the centre one great window with fine glass displays a sparing number of 
works. Right and left are doors, without mouldings or enframements, 
which set off the beauty of the finely cut stone. Above are windows, with- 
out enframements, and a delicate gallery on corbels. The proportions 
of such a building are early Republican, the actual design entirely modern. 

Another type can be illustrated by the facade designed for Maillard’s 
candy store (Fig. 302), in New York, by Cross & Cross. Here a monu- 
mental wall of fine ashlar is left plain, and the shop front, in two stories, 
is broken through it and composed entirely in metal and glass. One could 
criticise the design on account of a lack of relation or binding element 
between the shop front and the wall. On the other hand, the whole front 
is treated as a great window and this explains itself and needs no further 
enframement. 

An interesting example of the extensive use of glass and steel is Child’s 
shop on Fifth Avenue, New York, by William Van Alen & Severence. 
This building (Fig. 303) turns the corner not with a sharp angle but 
with a curve. This curve is filled with glass at each window level, so 
that when viewed from slightly up-town each story seems to be supported 
at the edge only by the frail curved pane of the plate glass below. The 
eifect is rather terrifying and fascinating at the same time. The build- 
ing certainly attracts attention and in detail and material it is fine. Its 
function allows for a certain playful fancy and one might justify its vio- 
lation of organic feeling on this ground. Its design was a bold experi- 
ment, however, and one feels that it flirts with, rather than solves, the 
problem of the maximum glass area for display. 

A much more exuberant shop front is that which we reproduce by 
Shape & Brady, done for the Edison Company, in New York (Fig. 305). 
Here there is a distinct splaying of the opening to produce a welcoming 
effect and draw the visitor in. In the centre a broad window displays 
the wares and right and left are a window and a glass door. Above the 
splay of the archway, the voussure, is filled with exuberant relief in stone 
and terra-cotta. Here restraint and dignity are sacrificed to gaiety and the 
whole design resembles a pretty stage with proscenium and stage proper 
arranged for the wares as actors. 

Finally, as an example of out-and-out modernism, handled in a 
sprightly way, we may look at the front of E. Weyhe’s book-shop on 


314. THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 
Lexington Avenue, New York (Fig. 304), designed by Henry S. Churchill. 


The client was interested not only in books but in post-impressionist paint- 
ing. His architect gave him modernism without extravagance, framing 
the door and main window and marking the baseboard with a chequered 
pattern in brilliant colour. The wall he left plain and the windows above 
he set off merely with a narrow fillet. There is no suggestion here of 
anything of the art of the past and the crude but striking colours accord 


with the taste that one notes so often in ultramodern painting. The de- - 


sign 1s bold, by no means unpleasing, and certainly challenging to the 
eye. -It advertises the shop and at the same time gives some indication 
of the character of the wares and the taste of the shopman. : 

One might go on multiplying such instances indefinitely. The main 
things to note are, however, the great variety of work of this sort, its 
imagination, and above all its tremendous improvement on similar work 
of a generation or two ago. Though we have drawn most of our mate- 
rial from New York, this was done de convenance, and the types could 
be illustrated successfully in any great city of the United States. The 
greatest bulk of material and the most interesting is, however, to be found 
in the richest and largest metropolitan centre. 3 

Among the strictly utilitarian buildings of America to-day, no genre 
is more important nor interesting than the hospital, and none has shown 
greater progress in design. On the other hand, in a book of this sort, 
only the briefest mention of the type is possible. The problem is such 
a special one that it is difficult to discuss it at all. It is well for the lay- 
man, however, to try to grasp the amazing difficulties which the architect 
must overcome to reach even a reasonably successful solution of the hos- 
pital problem. Probably no task in architecture is more appalling. In- 
deed, it would seem to demand an architect who was also a physician, or 
vice versa. Certain architects, or members of certain firms, have made an 
intensive study of hospital designs and certain physicians with a flair for 
planning and administration have devoted much research to the architec- 
tural side. The collaboration of these individuals has produced the mod- 
ern hospital, an affair as different from the house of the sick of fifty years 
ago as Robert Fulton’s steamboat is different from the Leviathan. 

The layman hardly knows what the problem means. If one suggests 
the word hospital, he thinks instinctively of a general hospital. It does 


Courtesy of Weyhe Gallery. 
Fic. 303. New York, N. Y. 


Pay Building Fifth Avenue. Fic. 304. New York, N. Y. 


773 Weyhe’s Book-Shop. 
William Van Alen and Severance, Architects. Henry &. Churchill, Architevt 


Fic. 305. New York, N. Y. Edison Shop; Now Demolished. Shape & Bready, Architects. 
315 


316 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


not occur to him that even the general hospital is not so “general”? as he 
supposes. A modern general hospital, for example, does not provide for 
the treatment of the insane nor the tubercular nor the victims of many 
other types of illness. It must be equipped for diagnosis of all diseases, 
but be prepared to transfer certain classes of patients immediately to other 
hospitals specially designed. These offer other problems, each of which 
might take many chapters to itself. If one wanted an optimistic gauge 
of the progress of humanity, one could find it in comparing the hospitals 
for the insane of to-day with the prisonlike horrors that were used for the 
purpose in an age less scientifically enlightened. The study of the causes 
and cure of a disease like tuberculosis has evolved a type of building with 
considerations of placing, site, altitude, light, and air that is unique in 
architectural history. The designer of such a building must study not only 
architecture but tuberculosis and the specialist in hospitals must further 
specialise in a type. 

However much relief may be given by special hospitals, the com- 
plexity of the general hospital must remain a fearful thing. The archi- 
tect must consult with the physician and decide, for example, how much 
space must be devoted to the surgical unit and how much to internal medi- 
cine. This will vary with the location and with the clientéle, and future 
possible changes in the proportion of variation must be considered. The 
out-patient department must be studied and brought into a proper rela- 
tion with the other divisions. Provision must be made for special types 
of treatment such as X-ray and radium. Laboratories fae analyses are 
required and, in a modern hospital of any size, for research. A unit must 
be devoted to emergency cases and first aid, and the district must be stud- 
ied to permit an estimate of the volume of such cases to be expected. 
Even though contagious cases are transferred to other hospitals, they are 
bound to be met in a general hospital, and the designer must co-operate 
with the physician as to the best means of averting cross-contagion. 

All of the ordinary problems which beset the designer of a large 
building in which many people dwell are exaggerated and made for- 
midable in the hospital. Kitchens and food service must be provided, 
but a host of special problems in dietetics must be considered. Service 
becomes vastly more difficult when special foods must be provided and 
meals served largely to patients in bed. A laundry is essential, but it 


Te e 


a. 


COMMERCIAL ARCHITECTURE iy 


must be even more efficient than that provided for a hotel. Means of in- 
cineration are necessary, yet the architect must discover, for example, how 
completely dressings will be incinerated and what proportion the hospital 
authorities will try to reclaim. Communications, always important, be- 
come vastly more so in a hospital. Nurses’ steps must be saved, quick 
communication between laboratory and ward is essential. The entrance of 
any great building is apt to be confused. It must not be so in the hos- 
pital. Incoming patients should not mingle with outgoing. Visiting friends 
must be cared for courteously and swiftly, but must not be allowed to in- 
terfere with the reception of patients or the more important activities of 
the staff. 

Forms, ornament, materials, all must be selected specially. As in 
the schoolroom, the architect must try to give his patients agreeable and 
cheerful surroundings. The most material physician will admit their 
therapeutic value. On the other hand, the hospital at best is an extremely 
expensive thing. Rigid economy must be observed. At the same time, 
considerations of germ elimination, the possibility of easy, rapid, and 
thorough cleaning will change the architectural forms. Economy enters 
in the decision as to the size of wards and the placing of beds. For the 
sick, the ideal arrangement is a separate room for each patient. Expense 
renders this ideal impractical, yet there must be many separate rooms for 
those who can afford them, or whose condition entitles them to special 
treatment. The number of individual rooms again must be decided in 
consultation with the medical staff. Moreover, it is possible to compro- 
mise between the individual room and the great open ward. Units with 
four beds are possible and often chosen. Alcoves may be used, or units 
with a few beds communicating, but partially screened, one from another. 
In any case, isolation must be obtainable for the very ill, the violently de- 
lirious, and the moribund. Every feature—from the large ones of placing 
and planning to the details of material—heat, light, plumbing, fixtures, 
garbage disposal, and all the manifold things that go into the consideration 
of any building, must be studied anew as they enter into hospital design. 

The problem of expansion is graver in a hospital than probably any 
other form of building. Magnificently as many are endowed, all will 
probably need to expand. In the beginning, architect and staff must often 
meet the question of whether they will content themselves with an in- 


iA 


a sug < | m 
<o o 


— | Hw 
—— Ye aa 


Q r= r= 

KS Ss ae: 

COSY A, A 

=) a a= == he 

MAM je) 

8 YW 8 

ar | an 

rm) ok 

n ra) 

= & 

= 8 

es 

S 

= zs 

y . eff g 3 
H y 

Boy A te 


New York, N. Y. Fifth Avenue Hospital. 
York & Sawyer, Architects. 


Fic. 306. 


COMMERCIAL ARCHITECTURE 319 


adequate unit or eliminate it entirely until such time as they can afford 
an adequate one. They must consider when the necessity for expansion 
18 likely to come and where it will be most needed, arranging the build- 
ing so that its first structure will not interfere with additions when the 
need becomes imperative and the funds available. Indeed, so thorny are 
the difficulties that hem in the hospital designer that one wonders not 
only that he ever solves his problem but that he ever has the courage to 
undertake it. In view of this, the great modern hospital becomes one 
of the most inspiring things in architecture to-day. 

As in the case of many other types of building, it is hard to mention 
specifically any one hospital without seeming to do an injustice to the able 
designers of hundreds of others. Perforce we must limit ourselves to 
two or three and regard them as illustrations of the complexity of the 
problem and the ingenuity with which it has been met. One of the most 
modern and interesting is the Fifth Avenue Hospital, New York, by 
York & Sawyer. In elevation (Fig. 306) it is eccentric, showing a lofty 
central mass connecting wide-flung wings, nine stories in height. Econ- 
omy, as so often, has eliminated all superficial ornament and permitted 
a superb effect of mass and silhouette. The building bespeaks its func- 
tion without attempting to parade it. Fine as is the exterior, however, it 
is the plan (Fig. 307) that interests us most. From the central unit there 
radiate four wings in the shape of a St. Andrew’s cross. These are con- 
nected on the first two floors with lateral wings parallel to the main aX1S, 
producing two triangular courts. Above the second story (Fig. 308) the 
St. Andrew’s cross rises clear, giving the maximum of light and air to 
the single rows of rooms on either side of the central corridor in each 
wing. It would be hard to conceive of a plan more admirably adapted 
to roominess and light, with the easiest communication and central con- 
trol. It shows how boldly the architect throws aside previous notions 
of planning and meets new difficulties in a new way. 

Another very ingenious solution of the hospital problem, in this case 
a special one, is the Lying-In Hospital at Boston, Mass., by Coolidge & 
Shattuck (Fig. 309). Here again economy enforced simplicity. The 
mass is built up in great horizontals with an interesting proportion and 
relation of part to part. Even so prosaic a feature as the water-tank on 
the roof takes its place as an integral part of the design, yet that, too, 


Z16 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


with the maximum of practicality. Accidentally, or rather functionally, 
the designer attained something of the modernist expression that we asso- 
ciate with the work of Sullivan and Wright, though he would probably 
deny, indignantly and correctly, that he had any such aim in mind when 
he created the work. Most ingenious of all is the treatment of the pos- 
sibilities for expansion and rearrangement. In any scientific building the 
rooms of to-day may be obsolete to-morrow. In the Lying-In Hospital 
partitions are so arranged and constructed that they may be changed with 
minimum expense and damage to the permanent structure of the build- 


ing. At the same time, every possible chance is allowed for the addition 


of units without interfering with the scheme of communication or cen- 
tral control. The building is thus assured of a far longer permanent use- 
fulness than is the case with most specialised buildings for scientific pur- 
poses. ? 
Probably the most ambitious hospital building, or rather group of 
buildings, in America to-day is the Columbia-Presbyterian Medical Cen- 
ter in upper New York (Fig. 310). It is an enormous pile, a veritable 
“fortress against disease,” and a glance at its mass will perhaps bring 
home more vividly than anything else the magnitude of hospital design. 
The architect is James Gamble Rogers. There are many unusual and 
almost revolutionary features about the Medical Center. In the first place, 
it is organised with an emphasis on the theory that the duty of the hos- 
pital is even more to keep people well than to cure the sick, so that the 
out-patient department, clinics, and means of providing attendance and 
instruction for the not too acutely ill are multiplied. The scheme is so 
large that the Center is not really one great hospital, but thirteen small 
hospitals placed one above the other, with central service. To a consid- 
erable extent, this reverses the procedure as developed in the ordinary 
modern hospital. Instead of one central laboratory for the whole, there 
is one for each unit. ‘This means that responsibility can be fixed with 
ease. Instead of one huge central kitchen, there are two diet kitchens for 
each unit, so that the nurses can attend personally to the preparation of 
trays for the patients and see that the food is served invitingly and at 
proper temperature. In short, the Medical Center studies anew the prob- 
lem of centralisation, how far it is an advantage, and wherein it is liable 
to become unwieldy and break down. Central control is essential, but if 
the organisation be large enough many features are better decentralised. 


ere oe 


eee 


ROR Se % 


& 


ie, 


ttects. 


Arch 


& Shattuck, 


lidge 


Coo 


1. 


ita 


. Lying-In Hospi 


Mass 


Boston, 


309 


Fic. 


1 Center, as Seen from 
ttect. 


Columbia-Presbyterian Medica 
321 


° 


N.Y 


the New Jersey Shore. ames Gamble Rogers, Arch 


New York 


310. 


Fic. 


329 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


Certainly the Medical Center is tremendous in scale. The buildings 
now standing cover 84,000 square feet, or nearly two acres. The height 
from the ground to the main roof of the hospital is 253 feet and to the 
top of the hospital tower is 306 feet. The hospital building will con- 
tain at opening 743 beds, 122 infants’ cribs, and accommodations for a 
complete personnel of 400. There will be a daily service for 2,500 out- 
patients. Perhaps to the layman the scale may be grasped by the homely 
details that the dietary department is planned to serve 4,115 meals daily 
and the laundry department to turn out 35,000 pieces every eight hours. 
Be it remembered that the building we describe is only part of that de- 
signed to go up on the site! Expansion is provided for and expected in 
the near future. In the face of a scheme of such immensity the layman 
may well gasp, but it is salutary for him to know something about it and 
to consider the work that not only the physician, but the architect, is doing 
for his health and that of his fellow citizens. 

Another interesting phase of modern American architecture involves 
theatre design. The modern tendencies are manifest in various ways. One 
of the happiest is the elimination of the fatty exuberance of ornament 
which formerly seemed to be regarded as absolutely necessary to the ex- 
pression of theatre design. Theatres are meant to entertain and to our 
ancestors this seemed to mean that they should flare and glitter with all 
the gold, tinsel, ruddy colour, and obese ornament that could be applied. 
The stage was regarded as a picture, to be enframed in a most ornately 
carved and heavily gilded setting. Actors were a florid, a strange, and 
a rather dangerous race, and they were housed and supposed to appear 
in a setting which revealed their characters. Now this is changed and 


the era of the “Bird-Cage Op’ry House” is gone, we trust, forever. De-- 


signers and public have realised that a reasonable restraint, proportion, 
harmonious and not blatant colour, is just as important in a theatre as in 
anything else. Properly, a theatre will always lend itself to a more play- 
ful and fanciful treatment than buildings of another type, but the ex- 
treme vulgarity which marked the old-time theatre is now rejected. 
The most interesting phase of modern theatre design we have not 
the time nor, to confess it frankly, the technical knowledge to review. 
This is the mechanical development which modern invention in machin- 
ery and electricity have made possible. The stages of modern theatres 


a 
~ ee ae 


COMMERCIAL ARCHITECTURE eee 


have deepened and broadened. Arrangement has been made for the set- 
ting of one scene while another is being used, the set stage later being 
put into place by a moving platform. Few people realise that the part 
of the modern theatre devoted to the stage and its accessories is as large, 
occupies as much cubic space, as that devoted to the auditorium. Sci- 
entific lighting has gone hand in hand with mechanical development, pig- 
ments have been studied in their relation to rays of certain qualities, so 
that some rays will be absorbed and others reflected, and a whole scene, 
costumes and set, may be changed in the twinkling of an eye by switch- 
ing on a light of different colour. Light and machinery make ocular ef- 
fects undreamed of by our ancestors. Full orchestras rise and disappear 
at will, whole scenes sink and are replaced by others without the creak- 
ing of a wheel. If the illusion demands it, the whole theatre itself may 
be transformed, as the Century Theatre in New York was changed into 
a mighty and impressive cathedral for the performance of The Miracle. 
These are the real wonders of modern theatre design, into which we can- 
not go. 

Reverting to more purely architectural considerations, we may note 
in the legitimate theatre the two types of large, formal, impressive work, 
like the Century, and the intimate, small theatre that has become such a 
common phenomenon in New York and other large American centres. 
Though the large theatre is, of course, more opulent than the small, both 
have the comparative restraint and refinement that we have come to look 
for in all modern American work. To these categories must be added 
a peculiarly American type, the motion-picture theatre. Nothing is more 
striking in modern America than the growth of the motion-picture indus- 
try. Even comparatively young people remember the age of the “nickel” 
theatre, arranged in some fire-trap over a store, and can realise the dif- 
ference between that and the enormous theatres, capable of seating thou- 
sands, with rich ornament, carefully studied light, perfect ventilation, 
and every mechanical device known to the modern theatre, which are the 
temples of the industry to-day. Wealth has poured into the industry 
and is as lavishly poured out. AI classes of people attend the “movies” 
nowadays, so that the designers of the theatres have begun to use real 
discrimination as well as wealth. It seems to be felt, however, that the 
“movie” audience is less cultivated than one which attends the spoken 


324 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


drama, and the motion-picture theatres are more lavishly decorated, have 
less refinement, and show a more unrestrained imagination than do the 
theatres of the legitimate stage. It is understandable and not inappro- 
priate that this should be so. 

As an example of the elaborate modern theatre on a large scale, we 
may look at the New Theatre, now the Century, in New York (Fig. 311), 
by Carrere & Hastings. This was the result of an elaborate venture, in 


which many people of means were interested, to produce the best pos- - 


sible plays in the most artistic manner. No expense was spared. The 
architects produced a. palatial ensemble, reminiscent of the style of Ga- 
briel and the period of the Place de la Concorde. Relief was bold, play 
of light rich, but all was dignified and refined. The interior (Fig. 312) 
was most impressive. Here more colour was used, the ornament was 
richer, and one felt something of the gilded setting that is associated with 
the theatre of olden time. Precious materials were used lavishly, but 
under control, and the effect was extremely rich and yet dignified and 
even formal. The scale was immense and, though every one admired 
the building, a good many found it somewhat oppressive. One had the 
same feeling in it that one has so frequently at Versailles. One could 
do with a little less grandeur, even a grandeur aristocratically under 
control. | 

_In the sharpest possible contrast to this we might turn to the Neigh- 
bourhood Playhouse, on Grand Street, New York, by Ingalls & Hoff- 
man. The scale is tiny. The front (Fig. 313) is a brick and limestone 
composition, recalling the American Colonial, with crisp detail simply 
handled. The brick runs up for two stories, where it is stopped by a 
quiet cornice and a parapet with the simplest of balustrades. Above that, 
stepped back, is an attic third story, with low windows. The entrance 
sign and billboards are small and quaintly designed in the manner of 
- signs on a Colonial shop. No flaring posters, no glaring lights advertise 
a theatre that consciously strives for modesty and refinement. The de- 
signer’s aim has been to be distinguished, rather than vociferous, and to 
cater to that quiet taste which is more and more insistent in our modern 
style. The interior (Fig. 314) echoes the same taste. Florid and espe- 
cially curved lines are avoided. The colours are generally cream whites 
and greys. ‘The walls and balconies are panelled in simple rectangles 


Fic. 311. New York, N. Y. Century Theatre. Carrére 8 Hastings, Architects. 


Fic. 312. New York, N. Y. Century Theatre: Interior. Carrere & Hastings, Architects. 
325 


Photograph by Carl Klein. 


Fic. 313. New Yorx,N. Y. Neighbourhood Playhouse. 
Harry C. Ingalls and F. Burrall Hoffman, Architects. 


* ie @ 4 


Photograph by Florence Vandamm. 


Fic. 314. New Yorx, N. Y. Neighbourhood Playhouse: Interior. | 
Harry C. Ingalls and F. Burrall Hoffman, Architects. - 


326 


Fic. 315. Cuicaco, Itt. American Theatre. Mahler & Cordell, Architects. 


Fic. 316. Rocuester, N. Y. Eastman Theatre. 
Gordon &§ Kaelber, Architects; McKim, Mead & White, Associated. 


327 


328 THE,AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


and the ceiling is broken and cleverly given depth by two sunken cir- 
cular panels of the slightest reveal. The details of the lobby and other 


parts are carried through in the same consistent, generally early Repub- 


lican detail, so that the interior has the intimacy of a distinguished dwell- 
ing with the practical conveniences of a well-planned theatre. The Neigh- 
bourhood Playhouse must serve us as a single example of a very numerous 
genre which appears in New York and elsewhere. Its group is a militant 
reaction against the extreme floridity which has marked theatre design 
in the past. 

As usual, we do not want to dwell entirely on the more conserva- 
tive types. Modernism appears in theatre design, as in everything else, 
and in passing we note the American Theatre in Chicago (Fig. 315), by 
Mahler & Cordell. A glance will show its relation to the styles of Sul- 
livan & Wright. Some of the forms are more conventional, the break 
with the past is not so abrupt, but the attempt is clear to make an original 
design, thinking in masses and planes and avoiding the vocabulary of the 
past. 

The motion-picture theatre is even more interesting than the older 
type and in a sense more characteristic of modern life. Here the prob- 
lems differ, though not so much as one would expect. To be sure, the 
stage need not be so elaborate for a drama that requires only a screen, 
but in most of the elaborate examples the building has been designed not 
only for the cinematograph but for concerts, vaudeville, and even com- 
plete dramatic performances, so that the problems of stage design do not 
vary. The motion-picture theatre, however, tends to be much larger 
than any other but grand-opera and concert halls. In a drama the eye 
can see satisfactorily much farther than the ear can hear, so that there is 
no objection to assembling large audiences, and many of the buildings 
are enormous. 

One of the finest and most interesting is the Eastman Theatre, at 
Rochester, N. Y. (Fig. 316), by Gorden & Kaelber, with McKim, Mead 
& White as associates. The local firm planned the building, the New 
York firm being called in later. It is somewhat misleading to call this 
a motion-picture theatre. It is quite as much a concert hall and a dra- 
matic theatre, but the aim of the donor was to bring as many people as 
possible to hear good music and see good performances, and one of his 


COMMERCIAL ARCHITECTURE 329 


means was to include good motion-pictures. The exterior of the Roches. 
ter Theatre is eccentric, following a curve and taking advantage of every 
available inch of space. One enters at the angle into an oval lobby, fine 
in itself, but awkward in that the entrance to the theatre js not opposite 
the entrance from the street. Within, one finds oneself in a spaciously 
designed theatre, with every mechanical means studied for the comfort 
of the audience. Even the mezzanine (Fig. 318) is provided with pad- 
ded armchairs for every visitor, which would be a luxury in a drawing- 
room. I'he most conspicuous thing of all is the colour. It is not too much 
to say that the colour feature is epoch-making in American architecture. 
A group of young men, trained in the American Academy in Rome, where 
a great point has been made of the collaboration of the arts, and where 
the finest ancient examples of polychromy in architecture are available, 
worked together at Rochester to add one more to these great polychro- 
matic designs. We reproduce one wall with paintings by Barry Faulk- 
ner (Fig. 317). It means little in black and white. In colour, judged 
by the standards of any period, the harmony of painting to stone is a mas- 
terpiece. We have seen how necessary in America is the comprehension 
of the possibilities of colour in architecture. The Rochester Theatre gives 
us an object-lesson. All the details of the work are exquisite. As in- 
tended, it is a monument to the elevation of the public taste. In one 
part of the building is the Kilbourn Hall (Fig. 319), a small theatre for 
concerts, as restful to the eye architecturally as it is acoustically a scien- 
tific masterpiece. The whole building is of its kind one of the most jm- 
portant monuments in the country. 

We must not expect all the motion-picture theatres to have the artis- 
tic distinction of the Eastman. Generally they are exuberant in design, 
a trifle ostentatious, and imposing chiefly on account of their enormous 
scale, ingenuity of planning by which all of a thousand and more seats 
have an unobstructed view of the screen, and skil! and cleverness of the 
lighting system. As characteristic of many, we reproduce the auditorium 
of the Capitol Theatre, New York (Fig. 320), by Thomas W. Lamb. 
If it lacks the supreme distinction of Rochester, it is by no means vulgar, 
1s overpowering in scale, and has one of the most perfectly planned great 
auditoria in the country. 

Other effects are purposely much more fanciful and exotic. Another 


Fic. 317. Rocuester, N. Y. Eastman School of Music: Barry Faulkner’s Murals in Theatre. 
Gordon & Kaelber, Architects; McKim, Mead & White, Associated. 


Fic. 318. Rocuester, N. Y. Eastman School of Music: Mezzanine in Theatre. : 
Gordon 8 Kaelber, Architects; McKim, Mead & White, Associated. 


: . . § 
Fic. 319. Rocuester, N. Y. Eastman School of Music: Kilbourn Hall. a 
Gordon 8 Kaelber, Architects; McKim, Mead & White, Associated. ; 


339 


Fic. 320. New York, N. Y. Capitol Theatre. Thomas W. Lam), Architect. 


Fic. 321. Cutcaco, Itt. Capitol Theatre. ohn Eberson, Architect. 


331 


332 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


example on a large scale is the Capitol Theatre at Chicago, Ill. (Fig. 
321), by John Eberson. Here the designer has deliberately made the 
auditorium to appear as located in an Italian garden. So perfect is the 
illusion that in a photograph it is almost impossible to believe that the 
theatre is not out-of-doors. An exotic effect of a different sort is the Fifth 
Avenue Theatre, Seattle, Wash., by R. C. Reamer and the Robert E. 
Power Studio (Figs. 322, 323). Here the designers have selected the 
architecture of China as a source of inspiration. On the West coast such a 
selection 1s natural. The details are heavy, the ornament florid, the col- 
our as variegated as possible and in full intensity. The brilliance of the 
colour is enhanced by carefully studied polychromatic lighting. From 
the description one would imagine the building to be vulgar. Actually 
it is a fairy-land, inviting and compelling the visitor to accept its imagi- 
native and exotic point of view. 

Recently an elaborate motion-picture theatre has be opened in Bos- 
ton, the Metropolitan, the chief designers being Blackall, Clapp & Whit- 
temore. This is an interesting example of the combined theatre and of- 
fice-building, the rentals of the ten-story office-building supplementing 
the profits from the theatre. The combination has imposed a rather dull 
exterior (Fig. 324), blocklike and offering little stimulus to the imagi- 
nation. ‘The interior, however, is gorgeous, if not wholly refined. The 
enormous entrance foyer (Fig. 325) is as impressive as Versailles. The 
staircase makes one feel, in ascending it, that-one should be wearing at 
least silken breeches and a clubbed wig. The auditorium and stage are 
enormous (Fig. 326), the latter provided with a platform which disap- 
pears and can slowly be lifted into place, carrying a full orchestra, play- 
ing the while. Even so elaborate a work as this, however, seems insig- 
nificant when compared to the most recent and ambitious motion-picture 
theatres. For example, the recently opened Roxy Theatre, in New York, 
with its capacity of 6,000, its three organs appearing or disappearing while 
simultaneously being played, its rising full orchestra, drives home most 
vividly the power, the wealth, the vulgarity, the scale of modern Rome. 
These theatres are typical of the tendency in American motion-picture- 
house design. There is something jarring in the sight of commonplace 
crowds in overshoes hurrying across a lobby which, despite its occasional 
use of spurious materials, is worthy of Mansart, while the elegantly 
dressed visitors to the Boston Opera-House stroll during the entr’actes 


“ Mi ii 


Prank Jacobs. 
Fic. 822. Seatrie, Wasu. Fifth Avenue Theatre. 
K. C. Reamer and the Robert E. Power Studio," Architects. 


f 
H 
§ 
& 
: 
: 
i 
Hy 
f 
3 


i 
id 


Sain 


Photograph by Frank Jacobs. 
Fic. 323. Seatrie, Wasu. Fifth Avenue Theatre. 


R. C. Reamer and the Robert E. Power Studio, Architects. 
Sieh 


334 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


along a corridor scarcely more imposing than that of the city jail. None 
the less, this is typical of America and perhaps not an unhealthy phe- 
nomenon. 

Among the commercial buildings of America few types are more in- 
teresting than the hotel. The extraordinarily high standard of living in 
this country, its enormous resources, and the demand, of even compara- 
tively humble folk, for luxury as by a right, have produced a develop- 
ment of hotel design far more elaborate than any in other countries. As 
in the case of the theatre, we could not possibly examine all the technical 
points involved in the problem. The chief thing to note is that the great 
modern hotel is a self-sufficient community. It must provide not only 
bedrooms, efficiently run, and all sorts of restaurants with their attendant 
service, their problems of communication with the serving-rooms and 


kitchens, but must have a police force, a detective force, medical atten- 


tion, a hospital, baths of all sorts, even swimming-tanks, squash-courts, 
and, in some instances, a chapel. Thanks to steel construction and the 
high-speed elevator, unlimited space can be provided vertically, and often 
one plan will do for many floors above the main and mezzanine. On 
the other hand, the problem of arranging efficiently for the service of 
thousands of guests, so that everything will run smoothly, rapidly, and 
yet leave an impression of ease and beauty, is one of the most difficult 
that the architect can approach. If a layman wishes to get an idea of 
the complexity of the difficulties, let him peruse one of the pamphlets 
issued by the Statler Company. A few pages will be an eye-opener. 
We can concern ourselves only with the appearance of American ho- 
tels, confining ourselves to a few of the important examples which show 
different tendencies in modern design. Perhaps as typical and impres- 
sive an one as we can find is the Commodore, New York (Fig. 327), by 
Warren & Wetmore. Built before the zoning-law restrictions, it piles up 
in an enormous mass, U-shaped for the admission of light above the 
main lower stories. Some twenty-five stories high, the cornice is elimi- 
nated, and the upper four stories are given a separate treatment which 
makes them a crowning feature of the building, without the absurdity of 
the projecting cornice which earlier design tried to bring into scale with 
the height of the building. The window-openings are regularly placed 
and there is no attempt in the exterior design to express the steel con- 
struction. The building has a fine-cut, distinguished air, but is neverthe- 


Blackall, Clapp & 
Whittemore; C. Ho, - 
ard Crane, Kenneth 
Franzheim, G. N. 
Meserve, Architects. 


Fic. 324. Boston, 
Mass. Metropolitan 
Theatre. 


Photograph by Paul J. Weber. 


Photograph by Paul J. Weber. Photograph by Paul J. Weber. 


Fic. 326. Auditorium. 


Boston, Mass. Metropolitan Theatre. 
Blackall, Clapp {S$ Whittemore ; C. Howard Crane, Kenneth Franzheim, G. N. Meserve, Architects. 


335 


Fic. 325, Grand Lobby. 


~~ ee 


cat ee 


4 
a 
a 
a 
$ 
rs 
-. 
3 
8 
# 
P* 
3) 


* 
¥ 


Photograph by Byron Ca: 


Fic. 328. New York, N. Y. Hotel Commodore: Lobby. Warren & Wetmore, Architects. 
336 


he a ee 


' Photograph by Wurts Brothers. 


Fic. 329. New York, N.Y. The Shelton Hotel. Arthur Lewis Harmon, Architect. 


Photograph by Wurts Brothers. 


Fic. 330. New Yorx, N.Y. The Shelton Hotel: Entrance Loggia. 
Arthur Lewis Harmon, Architect. 


337 


338 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


less somewhat blocklike and rigid. The interior shows much more im- 
agination. The lobby (Fig. 328) is one of the most attractive in modern 
American work, low, two-storied, with unadorned and heavy round arches 
in the Spanish manner, but with no archeological feeling whatever. 

Of the same generally classic character, but of a more interesting sil- 
houette, 1s the Savoy-Plaza Hotel which McKim, Mead & White have 
just erected at Fifth Avenue and 58th Street, New York (Fig. 63). This 
shows the effect of the zoning law upon a building which might other- 
wise have been much more like the Commodore. Here again no attempt 
has been made to express the steel; the terra-cotta envelope appears as 
a self-sustaining wall, or a covering for the steel, according to the com- 
mon sense or the lack of it of the observer. The mass, however, with its 
projecting wings and its regular terraces and setbacks, is exceedingly in- 
teresting. ‘he very bareness of the walls helps us to appreciate the mass 
and we feel that the “conservatism” is here a deliberate aid to modern 
expression. 

One of the most interesting and powerful effects of the zoning law 
is embodied in Arthur Loomis Harmon’s Shelton Hotel, New York 


(Figs. 329, 330). This is a combination of club and hotel, accommodat- 


ing permanent dwellers and transients. It is of brick, deeply recessed in 
the centre, and towering skyward, stepping back twice to a massive rec- 
tangular central tower. The material is brick and cut stone and archi- 
tectural ornament is restricted practically to the base, where a beautiful 
colonnade gives both dignity and scale. In this building the lines reveal 
the steel construction without insisting upon it. Pure mass is the key- 
note of the style, and we seem to be in the presence of some titanic re- 
sult of the forces of nature rather than a building by the hand of man. 
The mass seen at dusk is as impressive as Gibraltar. The boldness of the 
scheme frightens and awes and at the same time commands admiration. 
It is such work as this that one finds in America and nowhere else in the 
world. | 

Although it is not a hotel, such work draws our attention to the Phila- 
delphia Athletic Club (Fig. 331), just completed by Zantzinger, Borie 
& Medary. It is an example of perfect sanity in modernism. The tech- 


nical problems were much the same as at the Shelton, though of course 


more was made of the several functions of the building. Here no zoning 
law imposed the masses, but a fire law interfered with the design and 


‘Photograph by John Wallace Gillies. 
Fic. 331. Pxirapetpuia, Pa. Athletic Club. Zantzinger, Borie & Medary, Architects. 


es 
Photograph by Keystone Photo Service. 


Fic. 332. Los Ancexes, Cauir. Biltmore Hotel: Main Lobby. Schultze & Weaver, Architects. 
339 


340 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


was skilfully made an asset instead of a liability. The isolated fire-escapes 
at the angles were used to bring variety and harmony into the masses, so 
that they form one of the chief elements in emphasising the majesty of 
the silhouette. The building is huge and the detail as forceful and rugged 
as the design demands. The cornice is courageously suppressed and the 
design immensely improved thereby. Most daring of all, the colour, a 
salmon pink, is selected entirely with an eye to beauty and without re- 
gard to anything that has been done before. It lightens the mass with- 
out destroying its dignity and may be regarded as one more triumph in 
colour in American architecture. | 

The variety, richness, and imagination of American hotel design tempts 


one to linger unduly over the subject. One likes to go afield and look at 


such work as the Los Angeles Biltmore (Fig. 332), by Schultze & Weaver. 
The lobby of this hotel is one of the richest, most ornate, and at the same 
time most satisfactory designs in the American-Spanish style. It is a pre- 
clous monument, open to criticism on the ground only that it is too fine for 
a hotel, a flattering condemnation which the architects will probably be 
glad to accept. 

In Albuquerque, Trost & Trost have designed the Hotel Franciscan 
(Fig. 333), applying the principles of the pueblo style to hotel archi- 
tecture on a large scale. This is modernism rampant, yet finely done. 
All detail 1s consciously crude. Angles are blunted, the mass of material 
is emphasised. Blocklike ornament with heavy cast shadows takes the 
place of the vocabulary of the historic past. The effect is cubistic, but 
cubism under definite intellectual control. Paradoxically, the building is 
full of harsh harmonies. It is closely related to the modernist produc- 
tions of the German and Scandinavian peoples, by whom it has been ac- 
claimed, but the ideas which it embodies, the forms which it displays, 
are taken from the pueblo style of the district. in which it exists. It is 
thus a work of ultramodernism with an archeological basis, is appro- 
priate to its setting, and represents an original experiment in American 
architecture, as well. Incidentally, its thick walls, and especially its heavy 
reveals, have a great functional value in a climate like that of New Mex- 
ico, Where high winds are frequent and constantly impregnated with sand. 

This reminds us of another example with a modernist expression, 
probably less consciously attained: the Hotel Traymore, at Atlantic City 


i ti 


Courtesy of the Hotel Franciscan. 


Fic. 333. Atpuquerque, N. M. Hotel Franciscan. Trost €% Trost, Architects. 


Fic. 384. Atiantic Ciry, N. J. Hotel Traymore. Price & McLanahan, Architects. 
341 


342 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


(Fig. 334), by Price * & McLanahan. Here the scale is tremendous. 
The building is broken into pavilions, in turn accented with verticals 
in the form of superposed bays. This continues to the tenth story, where 
a balcony, flung wide on corbels, makes a powerful -horizontal. Above 
that an attic, stepped-in masses, and domes produce a sky-line of rare 
picturesqueness and force. The Traymore is really the old, picturesque 
seaside hotel, purged of its gimcrack and filigree, translated into the terms 
of stern modernism, with its picturesqueness preserved. 

The outstanding example of modernism in hotel design, will take us 
far afield, to the Hotel Imperial in Tokio, by Frank Lloyd Wright. We 
have seen something of the architect’s domestic work and know generally 
What to expect. At Tokio, however, he was called upon to design a huge 
building in a country where European classicism has no home and for a 
race with a very high artistic sensibility. His philosophy was peculiarly 
apt for the problem and he went ahead in full determination to evolve 
forms which were new in architecture, harmonious, and expressive of his 
ideals. The physical difficulties were great. The enormous mass had to 
be carried on a boggy foundation, so that actually the hotel is supported on 
concrete piles, driven into the silt, and carrying a platform of concrete on 


which the building rests. The success of the construction was revealed dra- 


matically in 1924, when the city was largely destroyed by an earthquake 
which left the Imperial Hotel unscathed. Other buildings, by German 
engineers, s:milarly constructed, bore the earthquake with equal security. 
Our first impressions of the Imperial Hotel are exotic. As we look 
into the garden courts (Fig. 336) we see the horizontality, the composi- 
tion in blocklike masses, the wide overhangs with dark shadows, and the 
sharp rectangularity of the architect’s work in this country. Everything 
1s, however, on an amazing scale, and we are struck, too, by the brilliance 
of the colour. When we examine one of the garden pools we feel the 
fine spirit of the Japanese rock garden, though there is not the slightest 
attempt to repeat any Japanese design. It is the abstract philosophy of 
the fine art that produces a similar effect in both cases. If the ornament 
displeases, it is on account of its ruggedness. A view of the Sunken Gar- 
den (Fig. 335), North Bridge, and Social Group, brings this out. Were 
it not for the planting, the detail would all be repellently harsh. This 
we feel especially in the interiors. A view of the main promenade (Fig. 


* T believe the late William L. Price is responsible especially for the original design. 


se Te 


j 


Fic. 335. Tokio, Japan. Imperial Hotel: Sunken Garden, North Bridge, and Social Group. 
Frank Lloyd Wright, Architect. 


Fic. 336. In the Gardens. Fic. 337. Interior, Main Promenade. 
Tox1o, Japan. Imperial Hotel. Frank Lloyd Wright, Architect. 


343 


eR RTA 
aR. 


Photograph by Wurts Brothers. 


Bowery Savings Bank. 


York & Sawyer, Architects. 


New York, N. Y. 


Fic. 339. 


Fic. 338. New Yorx,N.Y. The Knickerbocker Trust Co., Before Alteration. 
McKim, Mead & White, Architects. 


COMMERCIAL ARCHITECTURE 345 


337) reiterates the effect of harsh angles, overpowerful mass, and crush- 


ing weight. Not even the colour can entirely relieve this feeling. It 
is hard to judge such a building and we are probably too close to it to 
do so intelligently. That the artist’s philosophy, his aims, are entirely 
admirable, all will agree. Whether the forms that he has evolved actually 
express his ideals is more open to question. We leave this to individual 
opinion and to posterity, emphasising only the facts that here we have, 
at least, originality, courage, and confidence in a philosophy of zxsthetics 
independently reached. We should note, too, that among the modernists 
of Europe this work has attracted more attention and elicited more appro- 
bation than anything in its class that America has produced to-day. 

Another phase of modern American architecture is shown in the design 
for banks. Banks, like churches, are conservative, but their conservatism 
takes a different architectural form. A bank must be strong, solid, rich, 
respectable; and architects have vied to give it a character which would 
inspire confidence in its solubility. A fine bank is a good advertisement, 
most people regarding a solid and rich architectural display as a proof 
of financial impregnability. Only a few of us, and those the most un- 
gracious, pause to consider that the money that is not put into building 
may be put into securities. At least, we should not blame an enthusias-’ 
tic president and board of directors of an old and powerful institution for 
wanting to house that institution in a building worthy of its importance. 
If we deplore the fact that this is not a cathedral-building age, let us at 
least encourage our commercial magnates in the current tendency to put 
a substantial part of their earnings into the creation of beautiful and monu- 
mental business structures. 

Until very recently all banks were classical, and even to-day this re- 
mains the favourite style. The classic orders, especially the Doric, were 
rich, ancient, strong, and conservative, and they were taken over prac- 
tically without dissent as the inevitable adornment of a respectable bank. 
Magnificent designs in the classic style have been made for banks and 
must be familiar to every one. As a famous example, we might note the 
Knickerbocker Trust Company, in New York (Fig. 338), issuing from 
that stronghold of classicism, McKim, Mead & White. Big in scale, grace- 
ful in proportion, rich in form and play of light, massive and solid in 
expression, it perfectly expressed the ideas of permanence, wealth, and 
security that a bank demands. It is one of the tragedies of architecture 


"syoaqiyo4p “dakavg GS) 440K ‘“yueg ssuiavg AJamMog “XN SAYOX MIN ‘OFS “OY 


"Lay ISiy pandig Kq y¢vssoj0yg 


COMMERCIAL ARCHITECTURE 347 


that the failure of the Knickerbocker Trust Company not long after the 
erection of the building forced it to be used for another function, and the 
increase in land values decreed its transformation to a loftier building. 

In very recent years classicism has begun to weaken in bank design. 
Other styles, semihistoric or entirely modern, have often taken its place, 
and there has been a tendency to combine the bank with an office-building 
above. This was inevitable when banks are bound to be placed on the 
busiest of sites, where land values are at their maximum. No matter how 
wealthy the institution, it cannot afford to cover land worth a thousand 
dollars a foot with a low building. As an example of this combination, 
and of fine modernism in bank design, we may note the Bowery Savings 
Bank, in New York (Fig. 339), by York & Sawyer. The detail here is 
more Romanesque than any other historic style, but is really modern. 
The entrance is a massive arch, in a monumental ashlar wall, with fine 
detail which emphasises the scale. Above, the vertical steel lines are em- 
phasised for nine stories, where a colonnade occurs, and above it another 
small one, crowning the building very satisfactorily, without resort to a 
cornice. The last story is plain and slightly stepped back. The interior 
(Fig. 340) is one of the roomiest and most majestic ever designed for 
such a building. Every convenience is included, with the most lavish 
provision for air and light. The thing to note especially is the amount 
of waste space, or rather the amount of space used purely for consid- 
erations of beauty. There is probably no land in the world more val- 
uable per square foot than that on 42d Street, New York, opposite the 
Grand Central Station. Whether or not an architect or a bank js justified 
in using sixty feet of it to make a monumental approach to a great banking 
hall is a question we must consider. From the point of view of sound 
economy it is shocking. From the point of view of beauty it is a com- 
plete success. For those who invest “savings” in such an institution, the 
lavishness of the design and the preciousness of the material open a vul- 
nerable avenue of attack. On the other hand, we can sympathise with 
and applaud a great and wealthy institution which has so high a regard 
for beauty and so enthusiastic a self-respect as to call such a monument 
into being. 

It is a relief to find the classicism of the last generation beginning 
to go. We get banks like the Seattle National (Fig. 341), by Doyle 


348 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


& Merriam, in which the detail is still classical, yet the massing and ar- 
rangements so new and so obviously imposed by modern conditions that 
the effect is of an architecture of to-day with no great reference to the 
past. We find designs like George G. Elmslie’s for the Merchants Bank, 
at Winona, Minn. (Fig. 342), in which the attempt is made to obtain the 
necessary dignity, power, and richness, using the vocabulary of pure mod- — 
ernism. Classic banks will continue to be designed and we are glad of it. 
On the other hand, we can look ‘forward to a continuation and probably 
an expression of the monumental phase of bank design, with an infinitely 
greater variety and independence of study and expression. 

Under factories we have reviewed briefly the buildings of large scale 
and broad cubage made possible by modern steel construction. To this 
we should add a word more about the enormous loft buildings, used for 
offices and for a hundred other purposes, which are springing up in all 
the great cities of the United States. Oftentimes they have little archi- 
tectural pretense, yet tell as mighty monuments on account of their huge 
bulk and soaring verticals. As an example, we might cite the General 
Motors Building, in Detroit (Fig. 343), by Albert Kahn. Four enor- 
mous rectangles, springing from a fine base and topped with an equally 
fine colonnade, rise for fifteen stories. Three light courts separate them 
and they are joined at the back by the bulk of the main building. Though 
the detail of the entrance and lower colonnade is architectural and fine, 
the overpowering effect of the building is produced by the simplest and 
most logical arrangement of enormous masses. 

A building of a more elaborate architectural treatment, but of the 
ofhce-building rather than the pronounced “skyscraper” type, is the Cunard 
Building, in New York, by Benjamin Wistar Morris. Its exterior is 
good, but it is not that which we want to emphasise here. Admirably 
planned as the building is throughout, it is the great ground-story hall 
that makes it unique. Here we have another of the great colour designs 
in American architecture. Many of the same men worked upon it who 
decorated the theatre at Rochester, and the results are as fine, or even 
finer. The interior (Fig. 345) is vaulted, with domes and barrel vaults 
carried on stout piers. The stone is travertine and unadorned in colour 
up to the main impost. There colour begins, the transition made so skil- 
fully between the clear monotone of the stone below and the full colour 


a 


Fic. 341. Sratrie, Wasu. National Bank. Dae & Merriam, Architects. 


x, 
z 2 See eee ee 
: esr Satire eee 


tec aee 


= 
s 
& 
= 
3 
= 


Fic. 342. Winona, Minn. Merchants Bank of Winona. Purcell, Feick & Elmslie, Architects. 
349 


350 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


of the upper part of the vault that at no point is the eye annoyed by a 
disjointed break. The vistas are superb (Fig. 346). Seldom in the his- 
tory of art have architecture, sculpture, and painting collaborated so suc- — 
cessfully, and the number of academicians employed in it is a triumph 
for the American Academy in Rome and a vindication of its insistent pol- 
icy of making its students of all arts collaborate annually in a special prob- 
lem. As in the case of the Bowery Savings Bank, the Cunard Building 
is an example of what a great and wealthy corporation can do when it 
decides to build in a manner worthy of its position and reputation and 
has the taste and fortune to call in a group of men who can use its re- 
sources to create a great monument of art. | 

When we turn from this to the Marshall Field Building, at 200 
Madison Avenue, New York (Fig. 344), by Warren & Wetmore, it is 
hard to know whether to classify it as a loft and office building or di- 
rectly as a commercial skyscraper. It is both. Different functions for 
parts of the building have produced different effects, such as the hori- 
zontality of the windows on Madison Avenue and the verticality of those 
of the central block. The New York zoning law is responsible for the 
setbacks and here, as at the Shelton Hotel, an opportunity in design has 
been created by a legal requirement. No building could be more severely 
practical, yet its mass is interesting and dignified. 

Let us turn, therefore, to a more detailed consideration of the “sky- 
scraper.” It represents probably the most interesting phase of American 
architecture and certainly the most truly national. It was developed in 
this country, and nothing like it exists abroad. It was the result of Amer- 
ican invention, American daring, and American engineering skill, and it 
expresses in the most modern way the American genius in architecture. 
Stormed at by critics on many counts, impermanence not the least of them, 
sneered at by the conservative, the reactionary, the intellectually smug, 
as ostentatious manifestations of vulgar commercialism, the skyscrapers 
are none the less beginning to be recognised as one of the most beautiful 
and original phases of American art. The book-made zsthete who, Byron 
in hand, rhapsodises about Venice “rising from the sea” and, returning to 
New York and entering the harbour, views the city sky-line unmoved, is 
living in a darkness in which we had better leave him, for surely if we 

turned on the light we should find him blind. 


Fic. 348. Derrorr, Micu. General Motors Building. Albert Kahn, Architect. 


Photograph by Dwight P. Robinson €9 Co. 


Fic. 344. New Yorx, N.Y. Marshall Field Building. Warren & Wetmore, Architects. 
351 


J2antyI4p “Stssoyy 4vjsty uiumoluag 
“Buipling preuny “X°N ‘XYOX MIN “OPE ‘Oly 


‘Wapyrap “stssoy 40151 yy urumolueg 
Suipling preun) “AN “WYOX MIN “CPE ‘O1y 


COMMERCIAL ARCHITECTURE 353 


In our first chapter we have said something about the steel construc- 
tion which has made this art possible and something about the develop- 
ment of the vertical design. It took some time, as we have seen, to get 
used to the conception of a building composed of beams with walls hung 
on them instead of walls carrying beams. Even to-day, when we look 
at an unfinished building like the one we reproduced (Fig. 60) and see 
what is apparently a solid wall of eighteen stories resting on a hole, we 
are apt to gasp. Yet regularly the lower part of a skyscraper wall is left 
incomplete to the last for the easier admission of material. When we 
look at the base of McKim, Mead & White’s great apartment-house on 
Park Avenue and see that its mighty wall seems to rest on a crack, we are 
given pause. Reflection quickly tells us that the crack is to prevent the 
wall from being jarred by the vibrations of the traffic in street and sub- 
way beneath, that the wall is hung to the steel, and that the steel goes 
down to the living rock where no vibrations can occur, and we begin to 
realise the point of view of steel construction. Whether the steel struc- 
ture be expressed in the design, or no, the new medium was bound to 
produce a new art and promptly began to do so. 

Into the structural conditions which were creating this new art was 
injected, in 1916, a new factor of immense importance: the New York 
zoning law. This was called into being by the unbelievable congestion 
which occurred in the district of high buildings.-—Once the. possibilities 
of steel were grasped and corporations realised that literally the sky was 
the limit in vertical design, there began an orgy of skyscraper building, 
especially in lower New York. This was partly to take full advantage 
of the extraordinarily valuable land, partly for the advertising value of 
lofty buildings and the prestige of having created them, and partly on 
account of the quickly recognised desirability of offices high in the air, 
exposed to breezes and far from the noise and the dust of the street. All 
this was attainable as long as the skyscrapers were few and scattered. The 
moment two or three were erected in juxtaposition, they cut off one an- 
other’s air and light. What usually occurred was that a skyscraper of 
modest dimensions, say fifteen stories, would be built and, after a year 
or two, one of twenty-five would be erected adjoining it, cutting off its 
view, its light, and completely undermining its prestige as a lofty building. 

_ At the same time, street congestion became a menace. The new build- 


354 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


‘ings accommodated thousands, when the old ones had accommodated hun- 
dreds, but the width of the streets and the amount of traffic they would 
take remained the same. Moreover, the immense cost of the new build- 
ings effectually prevented the widening of streets, since that would have 
involved the destruction of the buildings themselves, erected to take ad- 
vantage of every inch of space, and abutting the legal limit of the edge 
of the street. Distressing conditions appeared and grew worse with no 
prospect, if let alone, of growing better. Something had to be done and 
finally, in the face of opposition from capitalists, from believers in Jaissez- 
faire, from many artists, and others, the New York zoning law was passed. 
We need not repeat here, in technical language, the terms of the law. 
Its principle is simple and easy to understand (Fig. 347). The require- 
The setback line always y, 
runs up from the cen- 
ter of the street 


through the limit- 
ing height ot the 


Cd 
@e 
No? 


street line i 
t] 
Ve 
‘ 
‘ 
Voe 
Wr 
\ 4 Vs 
\ / 
¥ Is 
Bp, V > £ 
= o s! 3 
‘% o -2 
a N gs) = 
ee \- I 3 
Sines ee ie 
2 Ne et ae 
® ey | © 
a \ ] - 
= . 4 fe) 
n * ‘ 
4 


8 
z 


Stree 


Fic. 347. Diagrammatic Expla- 
nation of New York Zoning Law. 


ments vary with the district, allowing greater verticality in some parts 
of the city than others, but the principle is as follows. The walls of the 
building are permitted to be carried up vertically to a given distance, say 
one and one-half times the width of the street upon which the building 
abuts. Then an imaginary line is drawn from the middle of the street 
to the point at which the limit of direct verticality is set. Obviously, this 
line will slope inward and, carried on beyond the point of the limit of 
direct verticality, it defines the point beyond which the mass of the build- 
ing may not project. After a certain distance, however, the restriction 


COMMERCIAL ARCHITECTURE 355 


is removed, so that the building may have a central tower of any height, 
a feature of the law which is open to criticism, since it permits a spire of 
telescopic form, if the advertising value of height is allowed to over- 
come good taste in design. In this way, what is called technically the 
mass envelope of the building is established. Its form, if full advantage 
of allowed cubage were taken, would be that of a pyramid on a square 
base, with a vertical shaft of indeterminate height in the centre. 

Obviously, no building can take advantage of the full spatial area 
allowed. It would be neither convenient, nor structural, to construct 
buildings with steeply sloping instead of vertical walls. Moreover, pro- 
vision must be made for light and air in the mass of the building. In- 
evitably, therefore, the law imposes a series of verticals with setbacks at 
given levels. Infinite variety is left to the designer. He may, at a given 
point, set his mass back deeply and then carry it high, or he may have a 
slight setback and carry it a short distance to another, or he may com- 
promise between the two. For practical as well as artistic considerations 
he must break up the mass, and this he may do in as many ways as his 
imagination suggests. He is untrammelled except for the very important 
restriction that he must not let any part of the building project beyond the 
mass envelope prescribed by the law. 

We reproduce four ingenious drawings by Mr. Hugh Ferriss show- 
ing, mathematically designed, a mass envelope and the way it is trans- 
formed into an architectural possibility.* The first (Fig. 348) shows 
the mass envelope as prescribed by law in a city block 200 by 800 feet. 
The second (Fig. 349) shows its appearance after the architect has as- 
sumed a plan and begun to make it pass downward through the original 
envelope. The third (Fig. 350) gives the appearance of the mass after 
the elimination of the sloping planes, in this case setbacks being imagined 
at every second story. A tentative limit has also been placed on the tower. 
The structure has now reached the point where it would be perfectly 
possible to build it, but it is still unstudied, not very practical, and as yet 
unpleasing to the eye. The fourth (Fig. 351) shows the building after 
the setbacks have been made to conform to a reasonable steel grillage 
and the pinnacles have been truncated at the highest floor level which 


* The writer is indebted to Mr. Ferriss for most generous permission to reproduce 
these, as well as for many suggestive ideas as to the effect on architecture of the zoning law. 


356 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


would contain a practicable floor area. The mass has now assumed a 
truly architectural form, has beauty, both of silhouette and of proportion 
of mass to mass, and is ready for a real architectural articulation. 

The effect of the zoning law is the most interesting single phenome- 
non in American architecture to-day. A restriction, imposed for purely 
utilitarian considerations and seemingly stifling to freedom in design, 
has been seized upon by modern designers and made a great architec- 
tural asset. Indeed, its acceptance and recognition, when we consider it, 
were inevitable. A skyscraper must depend for its effect upon its mass 
and silhouette. It must be interesting in outline and harmonious in re- 
lation of mass to mass. It must insist on its verticality and make the most 
of its great height. Detail or any form of small adornment counts for 
little and must be subordinated to the main effect. The zoning law 
taught practicality and suggested design as well. In no other way can 
the desired effect be got so completely, and the best proof of it is the 
number of skyscrapers that have been designed in accordance with the 
scheme of the zoning law in cities in which no such law exists. 

To illustrate the immediate effect of the zoning law, we may exam- 
ine such a monument as the Heckscher Building, in New York (Fig. 352), 
by Warren & Wetmore. In this case, the designers have used detail of 
the early French Renaissance, but have been forced to conform in mass 
to the envelope as prescribed by the law. As a result, the building is 
designed in receding blocks and finally crowned with a tower. It is an 
imposing pile, though not wholly successful in that the horizontals are 
overemphasised and there is nothing to bind any of the main masses to 
those above or below. 

A more interesting and instructive example is the Barclay-Vesey Build- 
ing, in New York, by McKenzie, Voorhees & Gmelin (Fig. 353). Here 
the steel verticals are expressed from top to bottom. The lines of the 
central tower are carried to the ground between the terraced corners. 
The detail is not historic; indeed, there is scarcely ornament on the build- 
ing in the historic sense. The designers have met a modern problem in 
a modern way and produced one of those entirely new structures which 
are the glory of our architecture. Their building is practical, honest, and 
infinitely majestic as well. 

Having reviewed the zoning law and its effects, we are now in a po- 


Fic. 349. Second Stage. 


Fic. 350. Third Stage. Fic. 351. Fourth Stage. 
A Mass Envelope. Sketches by Hugh Ferriss. 


357 


358 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


sition to examine a few of the great American skyscrapers, both those 
which conform to it and those which do not. Before we leave the direct 
consideration of the law, however, we should inquire into its adequacy. 
Certainly it is an improvement on the old policy of laissez-faire. Cer- 
tainly it has prevented the “hogging” of air and light by certain build- 
ings and produced an infinitely more agreeable and orderly sky-line than 
existed before its passage. Many, however, assert that it does not re- 
strict enough. A whole school is opposed to the skyscraper on account 
of its tendency to concentrate population and produce congestion in small 
areas. ‘he problem is a serious one. We reproduce some photographs, 
made from the air, of the congested districts of New York (Figs. 354 
and 355), Detroit (Fig. 356), and San Francisco (Fig. 3 57). Each tells 
the same story. A forest of skyscrapers thrust their bristling verticals 
upward in restricted areas, daily calling hundreds of thousands of peo- 
ple into these areas. Even a zoning law like that of New York is pow- 
erless to prevent this congestion and many cities have no zoning laws at 
all. Contrast this with a city like Paris, of low buildings laid out in broad 
areas, and the appearance of the American metropolis has much that is 
ominous. , 

It has been urged that the skyscraper was forced upon New York by 
the narrow limits of Manhattan Island and has no place in a city like 
Detroit, where there is no natural limit to lateral expansion. This en- 
tirely misses the point. Men build skyscrapers because they like sky- 
scrapers. hey concentrate them in a district because they like so to con- 
centrate them. There are plenty of places in restricted Manhattan where 
there is room for skyscrapers, yet none is built. In the Western cities, 
where expansion is unlimited, the skyscrapers are none the less concen- 
trated in small areas. Such concentrations are the result of the wishes 
of the community and of natural growth. This we must recognise and 
meet the question fairly as to whether they are to be permitted or pre- 
vented by law. 

The disadvantages are obvious... Already in New York it is quicker 
to do one’s shopping or go to the theatre on foot than in a motor. Traffic 
congestion 1s appalling and is steadily becoming worse. Unquestionably 
something must be done. At the outset we announced that we were re- 
viewing the present and not prophesying the future. We venture to 


4 


Sem 


Photograph by Sigurd Fischer. 


Fic. 352. New York, N. Y. Fic. 353. New York, N. Y. 
Heckscher Building. Barclay-Vesey Building. 
Warren {8 Wetmore, Architects. Mc Kenzie, Voorhees 8 Gmelin, Architects. 


© Fairchild Aerial Surveys, Inc. 
Fic. 354. New York, N. Y. Air View of Lower Manhattan. 


359 


7) 
o 
bes 
g 
3) 
> 
<x 
G 
cao 
‘ 
Z 
~ 
fa 
Sy 
= 
~ 
Ra 
YN 
o 
oO 
3 
~ 
© 
ae 
ny 
.—s 
7) 
rv) 
he 
Sl 
NY 
me} 
oD 
s 
° 
Ww 
ae) 
far) 
an) 
av) 
he 
° 
z 
vo 
Z. 
| 
° 
he 
7) 
~ 
aS 
Lu 
O 
co) 
<< 
~ 
Lal 
° 
Ww 
be 
BS 
a 
Ve) 
1d 
ae) 
cc} 
_ 
fy 


© Fairchild Aerial Surveys, Inc. 


Pere 


GaegeRaeee 


HA ER SERS EF RE SHE ES TE 
28 TE URE DRE TR AE EF BE 
R944 DE TE RD EET ES HE EE 
gaeeree £9 8 cea sd 
2 REE TE EE HR OE TE 
Re EERE RR os xo Be ee 


> ae see 
fa tte 
Jp asus 


eens ee FS. 
g. ke 8H 

Pus Pi ee 
ax te Bea, FF REEF 
qa KEEL ON eM 5 hd 
Peete ciel eoe 
ga Be ae 2 Oe REE 
Pere ere 
ga 55 eo 199 08 OE 
4x 88 EE OE ETT SE 
pn ag 1a 28 08 18 08 


Fic. 356. Detrorr, Micu. Air View 


ne 


i! 
' 
| 
| 
‘ 


Fete Lt Aoviad Supneses'Ine! 
Fic. 357. San Francisco, Cautr. Air View. 


361 


362 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


forecast, however, that whatever is done it will not take the form of 
abolishing the skyscraper by law. Men have always congregated in cities 
and they always will. Within the city there have always been congested 
business districts, and there probably always will be. No matter how 
improved conditions of light, air, communication, and even reposeful de- 
sign may be, one can hardly look for the time when the president of a 
bank will tolerate the thought of taking his motor to drive two miles in 
one direction to a neighbouring trust company and two miles in another 
to the stock exchange. On the contrary, buildings will probably grow 
higher and congestion will increase. No matter how much we may dis- 
approve, we can no more stop the growth of a city like New York than 
we can slow the revolution of the earth on its axis. The means to meet 
the new conditions will probably take the form of double, triple, and 
quadruple tracking of the traffic lanes, of viaducts and steel communi- 
cations from building to building, and of other expedients that seem like 
figments of the imagination of H. G. Wells and yet the beginnings of 
which we can already see. To destroy this new growth would be futile 
and one is tempted to say criminal, if it were possible. Control it we 
must, and the zoning law is our first great instrument of control, work- 
ing for the good of humanity, of science, and of art. 

We have gone far afield in abstract discussion. Let us return to look 
at some of the modern skyscrapers, both those that are “zoned” and those 
that are not, those that are designed with reference to revealed steel 
construction, and those that revert to plain walls. Some are in New 
York, others elsewhere. Some we have already reviewed in our first 
chapter, buildings like the Singer and the Metropolitan Life (Fig. 61), 
experimental monuments in the new expression. One of the greatest in 
height, with 57 stories, is the Woolworth Building, erected 1911-13 (Fig. 
358), by Cass Gilbert, and built before the zoning law, though its mass 
has something of the effect of a zoned building. Its detail is frankly 
Gothic. Another of the most successful of New York skyscrapers, the 
Bush Terminal (Fig. 359), by Harvey Corbett, uses the same vocabulary. 
The effect here, however, is much less archeological. The Woolworth © 
Building looks like an enormous and very beautiful Gothic tower. The 
Bush Terminal looks like a soaring and very beautifully composed mod- 
ern skyscraper. One has to make a real effort of observation to realise 


COMMERCIAL ARCHITECTURE 363 


that its detail is Gothic. The old vocabulary is completely transformed 
as it is applied to modern conditions. 

This really states the tendency in modern skyscraper design. Al- 
though very beautiful ones have been made using historic ornament, and 
even using directly an historic style, the majority, and on the whole the 
most successful, have avoided archeological suggestion. Such a struc- 
ture as the Chickering Building, in New York (Fig. 360), by Cross & 
Cross, has details which suggest Gothic, and even specifically perpendicu- 
dar Gothic, but other details have different associations and the total effect 
is entirely modern. Here colour, got by terra-cotta, has been used with 
conspicuous success. Particularly, we can congratulate the designers on 
transforming the water-tank (Fig. 362), that disagreeable adjunct to the 
city building, into an object integral in the design, playfully charming in 
colour, and successful as an example of refined advertising. 

One of the latest and most sensational of skyscrapers is the Ameri- 
can Radiator Building, in New York (Fig. 361), by Raymond M. Hood. 
This is one the general shape of which is determined by the zoning law. 
The daring innovation was to build it in black brick and then to pick out 
its upper details in pure gold. The effect is theatrical to a degree that 
opens it to the charge of vulgarity. Nevertheless, although one feels 
that the building could have been improved by a more extensive study, 
one cannot deny that it is a magnificent piece of work. Especially at 
night, when it is artificially lighted, when the black bulk disappears and 
the gilded upper portions seem miraculously suspended one and two hun- 
dred feet in the air, the design has a dreamlike beauty. And if we think 
it a trifle crude, remember that it is designed to house a radiator com- 
pany and not to commemorate a war hero nor glorify a saint. 

Thus far we have observed skyscrapers only in New York. They 
appear there in the greatest number and in the most up-to-date design, 
but many interesting and beautiful examples appear elsewhere to which 
we must pay the tribute of a glance. One of the most beautiful of the 
type derived from historic precedent is the Chicago Tribune Tower (Fig. 
363), by Hood & Howells. It was the successful design in one of the 
most sensational competitions in the last decade, and its selection was a 
triumph for conservatism. Certain restrictions, as the finlike mass on the 
back and the reduction of area above a certain point, were imposed, but 


"SII9I1Y IAP “Bag4O) G) 9qUuujazy 
*SuIp[Ing [eUuIMJay ysng “XX ‘N SXYOX MIN 


"EGE “Oly 


"19af1YIAP “J4ag]tH Ssvy 
“BUIP[ING YIOMOOM “AN “HOT MIN “BOE “OLY 


tom 


BOT, 


ee ee RE eT 


tf 
i 
n 
ul 
i 
t 


& e 
2a et aR 


EES 


rothers. 


Photosraph by Wurts B 


Fic. 360. New York, N. Y. ee ~ Rp ae 
Chickering Building. f ullding. 


Cross & Cross, Architects. Raymond M. Hood, Architect. 


eS 2 


Photasok bs Wurts Brothers. 
Fic. 362. New Yor, N.Y. Chickering Building: Detail of Top. Cross & Cross, Architects. 


365 


366 THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


the designer was fairly free. That he was largely inspired by the Tour 
du Beurre of the Cathedral of Rouen is undeniable. That so close a re- 
liance on historic precedent is unprogressive may be urged. That the 
Tribune Tower is one of the most beautiful buildings in America few 
will deny. 

In Philadelphia are interesting skyscrapers, among which we may men- 
tion the Elverson Building (Fig. 364), by Rankin, Kellog & Crane. This 
building is composed of blocks with set-backs, almost as though imposed 
by the zoning law, though none exists in Philadelphia. The steel con- 
struction 1s expressed and the whole treatment is a frank study in the 
expression of modern material. There is perhaps not quite’ so much 
imagination as in some skyscraper designs, but the general composition 
is none the less fine. | 

In St. Louis the Southwestern Bell Telephone Company called upon 
Mauran, Russell & Crowell to do their Administration and Equipment 
Building (Fig. 365). This firm produced one of the most interesting 
designs yet achieved, with light wells and set-backs suggested by the New 
York zoning law type and a vertical accent, with the inexorable carrying 
through of all vertical steel lines, that was first clearly shown in Eliel 
Saarinen’s fine, if unsuccessful, competition drawing for the Chicago Trib- 
une Tower (Fig. 62). The detail and the whole conception are entirely 
modern. 

San Francisco has just produced a magnificent skyscraper in the Pa- 
cific Telephone and Telegraph Building (Fig. 366), by Miller & Pflue- 
ger. Like the design we have observed in St. Louis, this attacks the 
modern problem in an entirely modern way. In order to study the effect 
of the building upon its site and in its surroundings, the architects re- 
sorted to the ingenious device of constructing an exact model, photograph- 
ing the site, photographing the model at the same scale, and printing 
from the superposed negatives. We show a photograph of the build- 
ing as it appears (Fig. 367) and a photograph of the model superposed 
upon the site (Fig. 368). It is practically impossible to tell which is the 
building and which is the model. By means of studies of this sort, archi- 
tects can attain a complete knowledge of the appearance of a building 
after it is built though the site be still actually empty, and details and 
masses can be modified while the design is still in the paper stage. The 


Photograph by Trowbridge. 
Fic. 363. Cuicaco, Itt. Chicago Tribune Tower. Hood & Howells, Architects. 


367 


Bs: 


 cisssadtrecsueeubianaisioanaee teedaamemoasaae 


Pa 


Photograph by Palmer Shannan. 
Fic. 365. Sr. Louis, Mo. 


a 


$i. 


. 


Southwestern Bell Telephone Company Building. 
thects. 


Sketch by Hugh Ferriss. Mauran, Russell €3 Crowell, Arch 


Fic. 364. Puitapetputa, Pa. Elverson Building. 
Rankin, Kellogg & Crane, Architects. 


COMMERCIAL ARCHITECTURE 369 


detail of the San Francisco Telephone Building is unusually interesting 
and, especially in the interior (Fig. 369), the designers have experi- 
mented happily in exuberant colour in full intensities. This is what we 
might expect in California, but it gratifies us to find it none the less. 

These are only a few of America’s great skyscrapers, though they 
include some of the best. The possibilities of this design are unlimited 
and we may well feel that we are on the threshold of wonders. This 
appears most vividly when we observe some of the designs, perfectly pos- 
sible and constructible, which have been made but, for one reason or 
another, not carried out. For example, the proposed Office and Convo- 
cation Building, by Goodhue, for Madison Square, New York (Frontis- 
piece), was never built, but might have been. Had it been constructed it 
would, in the opinion of the writer, have been the most beautiful and the 
most thoroughly modern skyscraper in the world. It would have been 
new, daring, aspiring, and refined, symbolising the boldness and the taste 
of American architecture of to-day. Similarly, we reproduce an imagina- 
tive design by Hugh Ferriss (Fig. 370), perfectly buildable, and yet push- 
ing verticality to extremes as yet unrealised. 

In this connection we reproduce a design by the late Donn Barber 
which is now being built (Fig. 371). It is the scheme for a Broadway 
Tabernacle, combining in the most daring way the church and commer- 
cial building. Its conception came from a consideration of land values 
and the difficulty of supporting a church in a congested district. Though 
shocking to the conservative, the idea developed that both logic and taste 
might permit the design of a church which, with adequate provision for 
its own functional needs, might incorporate with itself a hotel or office- 
building which should assist in its support. If the design were well done, 
the combined buildings could be made beautiful and dignified, and no 
feeling of irreverence need ensue. 

The lower part of the building is given up to the church and its huge 
auditorium. It is, of course, entirely unconnected with the building above. 
It is also, be it noted carefully, designed to have no interior columns or 
supports of steel in the auditorium. Above it, literally on its back, is 
reared a skyscraper of some twenty-five stories, carried on the transverse 
trusses over the auditorium. It will be a miracle of construction, but mod- 
ern science works miracles complacently. Give an engineer money enough 


“spapyoap ‘sadanyd “TL puv sai yf ‘Surpying ydessajay pue suoydajay syioeg 
“AY Yseq v isureBy japow ggg “ory MATA TYBIALC “198 “OI 


Te 

WIT 
TTT A 
WUT 


“IV ‘OOSIONY WY NVS 
"MOIA IYSIN “998 “OLY 


“ulnop 1714q05) q Sydvszoj04g 


379 


Photograph by Gabriel Moulin. 


Fic. 869. San Francisco, Cat. Pacific Telephone and Telegraph Building. 
F. R. Miller and T. L. Pflueger, Architects. 


Fic. 370. A Skyscraper Design by Hugh Ferriss. Fic. 371. New Yorx, N. Y. The Broadway 
Tabernacle. Donn Barber, Architect. 


371 


ge) THE AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE OF TO-DAY 


and room enough and he will construct cross-girders that can support a 
skyscraper. It is intriguing to consider what bearing such a building has 
upon our theories of architectural design, notably that which would have 
us believe that the real beauty of the steel building depends upon a truth- 
ful expression of its structure in its design. Should we, in this case, ex- 
press to the unhappy worshippers that the unobstructed ceiling under 
which they sit is supporting a skyscraper above their heads? The idea is 
amusing, but seriously it forces us to consider again not only the possi- 
bilities of steel but the zsthetic expression which should go with its use. 
Whether we realise it or no, we are still applying to steel zsthetic for- 
mulas which were developed in connection with stone and brick, and the 
process leads only to confusion. 

It is fascinating to toy with the possibilities of the future. Specula- 
tion is futile, but of one fact we can be sure: the era of steel will work a 
transformation in the physiognomy of our cities which will make its mar- 
vellous beginnings look pallid and weak. In conclusion, we reproduce 
some imaginative drawings of Hugh Ferriss. One shows New York a 
Babylonian composition of terraces and ziggurats (Fig. 372). Another 
shows a city composed according to the principles of the zoning law, but 
retaining its classical character and crowning its great masses with Roman 
temples, amphitheatres, and colonnades (Fig. 373). A third (Fig. ty PAS 
a night scene, avoids all suggestion of historic architecture and dimly in- 
dicates the great masses and the decked traffic communications which the 
future may evoke. None arrogates to itself oracular accuracy. They are 
intended solely to stimulate the imagination and make us think of the pos- 
sibilities of the future. 

We have forsworn prophecy, however, and are concerned with the 
present. Our review has shown it interesting and stimulating enough. 
The phenomena have run from the utmost conservatism to modernism 
unrestrained. We have seen the modern building constructed and de- 
signed according to the tenets and even the practice of Ictinus; we have 
seen the new steel and concrete which represent one of the most stupen- 
dous innovations in the history of architecture. Building by building and 
type by type, we have noted the improvement of the work to-day over 
that even of a generation ago. Without definitely stating the fact, we’ 
have sensed that American architecture is just entering upon a Renais- 


Hugh Ferriss. 


ing by 


A Draw 


. 372. 


Fic 


ing by Hugh Ferriss. 


A Draw 
i) 


. 373. 


Fic 


Sin 


oe. 
atid, 


eee 


Fic. 374. A Drawing by Hugh Ferriss. 


COMMERCIAL ARCHITECTURE 375 


sance which will probably be regarded in future histories as a great archi- 
tectural epoch. If our study has brought home only a small portion of 
the variegated interest, the taste, the skill, the imagination, the vibrant 
energy, and the exuberant vitality of American architecture to-day, it will 
not have been in vain. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 


A SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY 


The reader should note that the bibliography is not intended in any sense 
to be complete. Its references are chiefly to articles which concern build- 
ings mentioned in the text. In a number of cases, however, these lists 
have been amplified to include buildings not so mentioned, in order to 
give useful leads to readers who want to study some special type. In the 
beginning there is included a heading “Architects and Architectural 
Firms.” This contains monographs on the work of certain famous Amer- 
ican architects, but does not imply that there are no other architects as 
worthy and as famous whose works are not so published. There is also 
a brief list of works on the history and theory of architecture, not neces- 
sarily American, which will be an aid to the student in the study of Ameri- 
can architecture. 


I a i 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 


ABBREVIATIONS USED FOR PERIODICALS LISTED IN BIBLIOGRAPHY 


Am. Arch.: The American Architect. Published bi-monthly by the Architectural and Build- 
ing Press, New York. 

Amer. Soc. of Civil Eng., Proceedings. Published in New York. 

Arch. and Eng.: The Architect and Engineer. Published monthly by the Architect and Engi- 
neer, Inc., San Francisco, Calif. 

Arch. Forum: Architectural Forum, N. Y. Published monthly by Rogers & Manson Com- 
pany, New York. 

Arch. Rec.: Architectural Record. Published monthly by the F. W. Dodge Corporation, 
New York. 

Arch. Rev., N. Y. Now combined with The American Architect. 

Arch.: Architecture. Published monthly by Charles Scribner’s Sons, New York. 

Arts and Decoration. Published monthly by Arts and Decoration Publishing Company, 
New York. 

Brickbuilder. Now the Architectural Forum. 

Journal, Amer. Inst. of Archs.: Fournal of the American Institute of Architects. Published 
monthly by the Press of the American Institute of Architects, New York. 

Lond. Mer.: The London Mercury. Published monthly in London, England. 

The Nation. Published monthly in New York. 

Suburban Life. Ceased publication. 

West. Arch.: The Western Architect. Published monthly in Chicago, IIl. 

World's Work. Published monthly by Doubleday, Page and Company, Garden City Nay. 


ARCHITECTS AND ARCHITEGTURAL FIRMS 


Dwicut James Baum. 
Matlack Price—The Work of Dwight James Baum, Architect. New York, William 
Helburn, Inc., 1927. Illus. 


Daniet H. Burnuam anp Co. 
D. H. Burnham and Co.—Great American Architects Series. Part II. (Arch. Rec., 
Dec. 1895, v. 5, pp. 49-72. _ Illus.) 
Charles Moore—Daniel H. Burnham, Architect Planner of Cities. 2 vols. Boston, 
Houghton, Mifflin Co., 1921. Illus. 
Peter B. Wrigh —Daniel Hudson Burnham and His Associates. (Arch. Rec., July 
1915, v. 38, pp. 1-168. Illus.) 


CARRERE AND Hastinos. 
The Work of Carrére and Hastings. This article includes a complete list of the clients 
of this firm up to1gto. (Arch. Rec., Jan. 1910, v. 27, pp. I-120. Illus.) 


Henry Ives Coss. 
Henry Ives Cobb—Great American Architects Series. Part III. (Arch. Rec., Dec. 
1895, V. 5, pp. 73-110. Illus.) 
379 


380 BIBLIOGRAPHY 


Cope AND STEWARDSON. 
Ralph Adams Cram—The Work of Messrs. Cope and Stewardson. (Arch. Rec., Nov. 
1904, v. 16, pp. 407-438. Illus. 


DELANO AND ALDRICH. 
William Lawrence Bottomley—A Selection from the Works of Delano and Aldrich. 
(Arch. Rec., July 1923, v. 54, pp. 2-71. 
Portraits of ten country houses, designed by Delano and Aldrich, drawn by Chester 
B. Price, with an introduction by Royal Cortissoz. Garden City, N. Y., Double- 
day, Page & Company, 1924. 


BERTRAM GRrosvENOR GooDHUE. 
Charles Harris Whitaker, editor—Bertram Grosvenor Goodhue, Architect and Master of 
Many Arts. New York, Press of the American Institute of Architects, 1925. Illus. 


Ricuarp M. Hunt. 
The Works of the Late Richard M. Hunt. (Arch. Rec., Oct.-Dec. 1895, v. 5, pp. 97- 
180. Illus.) . 


KiILHAM AND Hopkins. 
Herbert Croly—The Work of Kilham and Hopkins. (Arch. Rec., Feb. 913, 915 
97-128. Illus.) 


LeEBrun Anp Sons. 
Work of N. LeBrun and Sons. (Arch. Rec., May 1910, v. 27, pp. 365-380. Illus.) 


Guy LoweLL. 
The Works of Guy Lowell. (Arch. Rev., N. Y., Feb. 1906, v. 13, pp. 13-40. PI. 8.) 


McKim, Meap anno Wuite. . 

Henry W. Desmond—The Work of McKim, Mead and White. (Arch. Rec., Sept. 
1906, v. 20, pp. 153-268. Illus.) 

A Monograph of the Work of McKim, Mead and White, 1879-1915. 4 vols. New 
York, Architectural Book Pub. Co., 1915. Illus. 

Alfred H. Granger—Charles Follen McKim. Boston, Houghton, Mifflin Co., 1913. 
Illus. 

Lionel Moses—McKim, Mead and White, A History. (Amer. Arch. and Arch. Rev., 
May 24, 1922, v. 121, pp. 413-424, with plates.) 

C. H. Reilly—McKim, Mead and White. London, Ernest Benn, Ltd., 1924. Illus. 

Sketches and Designs by Stanford White: with an introduction of his career by his | 

son, Lawrence Grant White. New York, The Architectural Book Pub. Co., 1920. 


MacInnis AND WALSH. 
Sylvester Baxter—A Selection from the Works of Maginnis and Walsh. (Arch. Rec., 
Feb. 1923, v. 53, pp. 92-115. Illus.) 


Me tor, Mercs anp Howe. 
Monograph of the Work of Mellor, Meigs and Howe. New York, The Architectural 
Book Pub. Co., 1923. Illus. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 381 


ParKER, THOMAS AND RIceE. 
Notes on the Work of Parker, Thomas and Rice of Boston and Baltimore. (Arch. Rec., 
Aug. 1913, v. 34, pp. 97-184. _ Illus.) 
PEABODY AND STEARNS. 
Great American Architects Series. Part II. Work of Peabody and Stearns. (4rch. 
Rec., July 1896, v. 6, pp. 53-94. Illus.) 


CHARLES ApAMs PLatr. 
Monograph of the Work of Charles A. Platt, with an introduction by Royal Cortissoz. 
New York, The Architectural Book Pub. Co., 1913. Illus. 


Joun Russe. Pope. 
Herbert Croly—Recent Works of John Russell Pope. (4rch. Rec., June IgII, v. 
29, pp. 441-511. Illus.) 
Royal Cortissoz—Architecture of John Russell Pope. New York, William Helburn 
Inc., 1925- . Illus. (Vol. 1 complete, to be finished in 3 vols.) 


Henry Hosson RicHarpson. 
Mariana Griswold Van Rensselaer—Henry Hobson Richardson and His Works. Bos- 
ton, Houghton, Mifflin, 1888. Illus. 


Joun WE vBuRN Root. 
Harriet Monroe—John Welburn Root. Boston, Houghton, Mifflin Company, 1896. 
Illus. 


ELIEL SAARINEN. 
Irving K. Pond—Eliel Saarinen and His Work. (West. Arch., July 1923, v. 32, pp. 
75-77, pl. 1-16.) 
Howarp SHAw. 
Herbert D. Croly—Recent Work of Howard Shaw. Chiefly residential. (4rch. Rec. 
April 1913, v. 33, pp. 284-331. Illus.) 


SHEPLEY, RUTAN AND COOLIDGE. 

Great American Architects Series. Part I. Work of Shepley, Rutan and Coolidge. 

(Arch. Rec., July 1896, v. 6, pp. 1-52. Illus.) : 
Louis H. Suttivan. 

The Young Man in Architecture. (West. Arch., Jan. 1925, v. 34, pp. 4-10, pl. 1-6. 
Illus.) 

Great American Architects. Part I. Adler and Sullivan. Architecture in Chicago. 
(Arch. Rec., Dec. 1895, v. 5, pp. 1-48. _ Illus.) 

Fiske Kimball—Louis Sullivan, an Old Master. (4rch. Rec., April 1925, v. 57, pp. 289- 
304. Illus.) : 

L. H. Sullivan—Autobiography of an idea, with a foreword by Claude Bragdon. New 
York, Press of the American Institute of Architects, 1924. 

Frank Lioyp Wricur. 

W endingen—Frank Lloyd Wright. The Life Work of the American Architect, F. L. 
Wright, with contributions by F. L. Wright, an introduction by H. T. Wijdeveld, 
and many articles by famous European architects and American writers. Sant- 
poort, Holland, C. A. Mees, 1925. Illus. 


382 BIBLIOGRAPHY 


YorK AND SAWYER. 
The Recent Work of York and Sawyer. (Arch. Rev., N. Y., Aug. 1909, v. 16, pp. 
97-116, pls. 61-70. Illus.) 


THEORY AND HISTORY 


Stanley D. Adshead—A Comparison of Modern American Architecture with that of Eu- 
ropean Cities. (Arch. Rec., Feb. 1911, v. 29, pp. 113-1 25. Illus.) 

American Architect—Fifty Years of American Architecture. Illustrated articles by Royal 
Cortissoz, George C. Nimmons, Alfred C. Bossom, Myron Hunt, and others. (4m. 
Arch., Jan. 5, 1926, v. 129, pp. 1-168.) 

Alfred C. Bossom—American National Architecture. An interesting suggestion of modern 
adaptation of Mayan architecture. (4m. Arch., July 29, 1925, v. 128, pp. 77-83. 
Illus.) 

Claude Bragdon—Architecture in the United States. I. The Birth of Taste. II, The 
Growth of Taste. III. The Skyscraper. (Illus. articles, Arch. Rec., June—Aug. 1909, 
Vv. 25, Pp. 426-433; v. 26, pp. 38-45, pp. 85-96.) 

Barr Ferree—An “American Style” of Architecture. (Arch. Rec., July—Sept. 1891, v. 1, 
PP. 39-45.) 

Leo Friedlander—The New Architecture and the Master Sculptor. (4rch. Forum, Jan. 
1927, v. 46, pp. 1-8.) 

H. S. Goodhart-Rendel—What Architecture Can Give to the Layman. (London Mercury, 
April 1924, v. 9, pp. 628-657.) 

Jacques Gréber—L’architecture aux Etats-Unis preuve de la force d’éxpansion du génie 
francais. 2 vols. Paris, Payot et Cie, 1920. Illus. 


A. D. F. Hamlin—Twenty-five Years of American Architecture. With illustrations of the 
Library of Congress, Boston Public Library, Masonic Temple of Chicago, Pennsylvania 
Station of N. Y., and other buildings. (4rch. Rec., July 1916, v. 40, pp. 1-14.) 


Talbot Faulkner Hamlin—The American Spirit in Architecture. Vol. 1 3 of the Pageant of 
America. New Haven, Yale University Press, 1926. Illus. 


Werner Hegemann and Albert Peets—The American Vitruvius: An Architect’s Handbook 
of Civic Art. New York, The Architectural Book Pub. Co., 1922. Illus. (There is a 
German edition of this publication.) 


Fiske Kimball—Domestic Architecture of the American Colonies and of the Early Republic. 
New York, Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1922. Illus. 


Fiske Kimball—What is Modern Architecture? (The Nation, N. Y., July 30, 1924, v. Ig, 


pp. 128-129.) 
Recent Architecture in the South. (Illus. article, Arch. Rec., March 1924, v. 55, 


Pp. 209-271.) 
Le Corbusier—Towards a New Architecture. Translated by Frederick Etchella. N. die 
Payson and Clarke, 1927. Illus. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 383 


Howard Major—The Domestic Architecture of the Early American Republic. The Greek 
Revival. Philadelphia, J. B. Lippincott Co., 1926. Illus. 


Erich Mendelsohn—Amerika, bilderbuch eines Architekten. Berlin, Rudolf Mosse, 1926. 
Illus. 


Lewis Mumford—Sticks and Stones, A Study of American Architecture and Civilization. 
New York, Boni and Liveright, 1924. 


Charles Matlack Price—The Practical Book of Architecture. Philadelphia, J. B. Lippincott 
Cos, 1915, 


Oliver Reagan, editor—American Architecture of the Twentieth Century, a series of photo- 
graphs and measured drawings of modern, civic, commercial and industrial buildings. 
New York, Architectural Book Publishing Co. Part I, II, 1927. (In process of pub- 
lication.) 


Montgomery Schuyler—The Romanesque Revival in New York. (Illus. articles, Arch. Rec., 
July-Sept., and Oct.—Dec. 1891, v. 1, pp. 7-38, pp. 151-1098.) 
Geoffrey Scott—The Architecture of Humanism. London, Constable and Conth.tdes-1o24: 


Russell Clipston Sturgis—How to Judge Architecture. New York, Baker and Taylor, 1903. 
Illus. 


Robert C. Sweatt—Architecture of the Pacific Northwest. (Illus. article, Arch. Rec., v. 
26, pp. 166-175, Sept. 1909.) 


Thomas E. Tallmadge—The Story of Architecture in America. New York, W. W. Nor- 
ton and Co., 1927. Illus. 


feos LY PES 


APARTMENT HOUSES 


Architectural Forum—Apartment House Reference Number, Sept. 1925, v. 43, pp. 121-1 84, 
pls. 33-56. Plans, exts., ints. 

R. A. Sexton, Editor—American Apartment Houses of To-day, illustrating plans, details, 
exteriors, and interiors of modern city and suburban apartment houses throughout 
the United States. New York, Architectural Book Publishing Company, 1926. 


NEW YORK CITY, TURTLE BAY GARDENS. Edward C. Dean and William Law- 
rence Bottomley, Associate Architects. (Arch. Rec., Dec. 1920, v. 48, pp. 466-493. 
Plans, exts., ints.) 


NEW YORK CITY. NO. 277 PARK AVE. AN APARTMENT HOTEL. McKim, 
Mead & White, Architects. (Arch. Forum, July 1925, v. 43, pls. 9-11. Plans, exts.) 


AUTOMOTIVE BUILDINGS 


Architectural Forum—Automotive Buildings Reference Number, March 1927, v. 46, pp. 
201-312. Plans, exts., ints. 


Alexander G. Guth—The Automobile Service Station. (Arch. Forum, July 1926, v. 45, 
pp. 33-56. Illus.) 


384 BIBLIOGRAPHY 


BANKS 


Architectural Forum—Special Number on Banks, June 1923, v. 38, pp. 253-312, pls. 65-88. 
Plans, exts., ints. 


NEW YORK CITY. BOWERY SAVINGS BANK. York and Sawyer, Architects. 
(Am. Arch. and Arch. Rev., Aug. 1, 1923, v. 124, pls. p. 138 + exts., details.) 


Six Modern Banks, by Dennison and Hirons, Architects. (4rch. Forum, May 1925, v. 42, 
pp. 299-304. Plans, sketches.) , 


BRIDGES 


Claude Bragdon—Abstract Thoughts on Concrete Bridges. (Arch. Rec., Jan. 1923, v. 53, 
pp. 3-10. Illus.) 


Wilbur J. Watson—Bridge Architecture, containing two hundred illustrations of the notable 
bridges of the world, ancient and modern... New York, William Helburn, Inc., 
1927. Illus. 


HUDSON RIVER, N. Y. PROPOSED MEMORIAL BRIDGE. Alfred C. Bossom, 
Architect. (Amer. Arch., April 6, 1921, v. 119, pp. 423-425. Plan, sketches.) 


Montgomery Schuyler—Our Four Big Bridges. THE OLD EAST RIVER BRIDGE; 
QUEENSBOROUGH BRIDGE; MANHATTAN BRIDGE; WILLIAMSBURG 
BRIDGE. (Arch. Rec., Mar. 1909, v. 25, pp. 147-160. Illus.) 


PHILADELPHIA, THE DELAWARE RIVER BRIDGE between Philadelphia and Cam- 
den. Paul P. Cret, Architect. Ralph Modjeski, Engineer. Illus. article by Harold 
Donaldson Eberlein. (4rch. Rec., Jan. 1927, v. 61, pp. I-12.) 


WASHINGTON, D. C. ARLINGTON MEMORIAL BRIDGE. Rendered drawings 
of plan, elev., perspective sketch. McKim, Mead and White, Architects. (Yournal, 
Amer. Inst. of Archs., Feb. 1924, v. 12, pp. 65-71.) 


WILMINGTON, DEL. WASHINGTON MEMORIAL BRIDGE. Vance W. Torbert, 
Architect. (Arch. Forum, Dec. 1923, v. 39, pp. 295-298, pls. 102-103. Plan, elev., 
views.) 


CAPITOLS 


Architectural Forum—Public Buildings Reference Number, Part I, June 1927, v. 46, pp. 505- 
616. Part II, Sept. 1927, v. 47, pp. 193-304. Plans, exts., ints.. 


ALBANY, N. Y. CAPITOL BUILDING. (Arch. Rec., Oct. 1899, v. 9, pp. 142-157. 
Illus.) 


HARRISBURG, PA. CAPITOL PARK. Scale model of the buildings, grounds and ap- 
proach. Plan, sketches of capitol building during construction. Arnold W. Brunner, 
Architect. (Arch. Rec., April 1923, v. 53, pp. 286-306.) 


LINCOLN, NEB. STATE CAPITOL. Competition drawings of designs submitted 
for the Nebraska State Capitol. Plans and elevs. of designs by Bertram G, Goodhue; 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 385 


John R. Pope; McKim, Mead and White; Tracy and Swartwout; Paul P. Cret and 
Zantzinger. (Amer. Arch., July 21, 1920, v. 118, pp. 79-80, and plates.) 


——. SAME. The Architectural Sculpture of the Nebraska State Capitol by Charles 
Harris Whitaker and Hartley Burr Alexander. New York, Press of the American In. 
stitute of Architects, Inc., 1926. Illus. 

farm SME. - Plan. Sketches, Models for Reliefs by Bertram G. Goodhue, Architect; 
Lee Lawrie, Sculptor. (West. Arch., Oct. 1923, V. 32, pp. 113-116, pls. 1-6.) 

MADISON, WIS. STATE CAPITOL. George B. Post and Sons, Architects. (Arch. Tete. 
Sept. 1917, v. 42, pp. 194-233. Plan, exts., ints., section.) 


PROVIDENCE, R.I. STATE CAPLTOL. McKim, Mead and White, Architects. (Amer. 
Arch., Oct. 10, 17, 24, 1903, v. 82, exts., ints.) 


CHURCHES 


Architectural Forum—Church Reference Number, April 1924, v. 40, Pp. 133-188, pls. 49-64. 
Illus. 

Aaron G. Alexander—American Church Architecture. (Arch. Forum, May 1926, v. 44, 
PP. 313-336. Plans, exts.) 

Sylvester Baxter—A Selection from the Works of Maginnis and Walsh. (Arch. Rec., Feb. 
1923, V. 53, Pp. 92-115. Illus.) 

Ralph Adams Cram—American Churches. A series of authoritative articles on designing, 
planning, heating, ventilating, lighting, and general equipment of churches as demon. 
strated by the best practice in the United. States. New York, The American Archi- 
tect, 1915. 2 vols. IIlus. 

Montgomery Schuyler—The Work of Cram, Goodhue, and F erguson. A record of the firm’s 
representative structures, 1892-1910. (Arch. Rec., Jan. 1911, v. 29, pp. I-41. Illus.) 

BOSTON, MASS. LESLIE LIN DSEY MEMORIAL CHAPEL, EMMANUEL 
CHURCH. Allen and Collens, Architects. (4rch., Dec. 1924, v. 50, Pp. 393-398. 
Plan, exts., ints.) 

CHICAGO. ISAIAH TEMPLE. Alfred S. Alschuler, Architect. (West. Arch., June, 
1925, v. 34, pls. 1-8. Plans, exts., ints.) 

NEW YORK CITY. CATHEDRAL OF ST. JOHN THE DIVINE. A Study of the 
Designs for the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, by Alfred D. Hamlin. New York, 
published at The Cathedral, March 1924. Illus. pamphlet. 

——. THE NAVE OF THE CATHEDRAL OF ST. JOHN THE DIVINE. Ralph 
Adams Cram, Architect. (Arch., Aug. 1917, v. 36, pp. 145-150. Plan, sketch of int., 
interiors of model.) 

NEW YORK CITY. CHURCH OF ST. JOHN NEPOMUK. John Van Pelt, Architect. 
(Arch. Rec., Dec. 1925, v. 58, pp. 517-529. Exts., ints.) 

NEW YORK CITY. ST. THOMAS’ CHURCH. The Story of St. Thomas’ Church, by 
H. L. Bottomley. Cram, Goodhue and F erguson, Architects. (Arch. Rec., Feb. 1914, 
V. 35, Pp. 101-131. Plan, elev., exts., ints.) 


386 BIBLIOGRAPHY 


NEW YORK CITY. THIRD CHURCH OF CHRIST, SCIENTIST, Park Avenue. 
Delano and Aldrich, Architects. (Arch. Forum, Feb. 1924, v. 40, p. 85, pls. 17-21. 
Plans, exts., ints.) : 

NEWBURYPORT, MASS. ST. PAUL’S CHURCH. Perry, Shaw and Hepburn, Archi- 
tects. (Arch. Forum, Aug. 1924, v. 41, p. 87, pls. 29-30.) Plans, exts., int.) 


PETERBOROUGH, N. H. ALL SAINTS CHURCH. Illus. article by Howard Donald- 
son Eberlein. Cram and Ferguson, Architects. (Arch. Rec., Sept. 1925, v. §8, pp. 278- 
288. Plans, exts., ints., sec.) 


PITTSBURGH, PA. FIRST BAPTIST CHURCH. Cram, Goodhue and Ferguson, 
Architects. (4rch. Rec., Sept. 1912, v. 32, pp. 193-208. Plans, exts., ints.) 


VALLEY FORGE, PA. WASHINGTON MEMORIAL CHAPEL. Zantzinger, Borie 
and Medary, Architects. (Arch. Rev., N. Y., Sept. 1919, v. 9 (new series); pp. 69-74, 
pls. 41-45. Exts., ints.) 


WASHINGTON, D. C. CATHEDRAL OF ST. PETER AND ST. PAUL. Frohman, 
Robb and Little, Architects. Plans, exts., during construction, apse end, sketches of 
exterior and interior completed. (4mer. Arch., April 22, 1925, V. 127, pp. 355-368, 
pls. 97-107. Illus.) 


WASHINGTON, D. C. THE NATIONAL SHRINE OF THE IMMACULATE CON- 


CEPTION. Maginnis and Walsh, Architects. (Arch. Rec., July 1922, v. $1, pp. 2-15. 
Plans, sketches, models.) 


COLLEGES AND UNIVERSITIES 


Architectural Forum—University Buildings Reference Number, Part I, Dec: 1926 
Pp. 321-384, pls. 89-104. Part II, June 1926, v. 44, pp. 345-408, pls. 97-112. Plans, 
exts., ints. 

Brickbuilder—Recent Collegiate Architecture, as Exemplified in the Work of Messrs. Shep- 
ley, Rutan and Coolidge at Harvard University; Messrs. Cram, Goodhue and Ferguson 
at Richmond College; and Palmer, Hornbostel and Jones at Northwestern University. 
(Brickbuilder, Nov. 1914, v. 23, pp. 259-273, pls. 161-176.) 

Montgomery Schuyler—Architecture of American Colleges. Illus. Series in Arch. Rec., 
as below: 

I. Harvard University. (Oct. 1909, v. 26, pp. 243-269.) 
II. Yale. (Dec. 1909, v. 26, pp. 393-416.) 
IIIf. Princeton. (Feb. 1910, v. 27, pp. 129-160.) 
IV. New York City Colleges. (June 1910, v. 27, PP. 443-469.) _ 
V. Univ. of Penn., Girard, Haverford, Lehigh and Bryn Mawr Colleges. (Sept. 
1910, v. 28, pp. 182-211.) 
VI. Dartmouth, Williams and Amherst. (Dec. 1910, v. 28, pp. 424-442.) 
VII. Brown, Bowdoin, Trinity and Wesleyan. (Feb. 191 I, V. 29, pp. 145-166.) 
VIII. The southern colleges: William and Mary, St. John’s College, Univ. of Georgia, 
Vanderbilt Univ., Maryville College, etc. (July ro11, v. 30, pp. 57-84.) 
IX. Union, Hamilton, Hobart, Cornell and Syracuse. (Dec. I911, v. 30, pp. 549- 
573:) 
Architecture of American Colleges. Three women’s colleges: Vassar, Wellesley, 
and Smith. (Arch. Rec., May 1912, v. 31, pp. 513-537. Illus.) 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 387 


BALTIMORE CITY COLLEGE COMPETITION. Group plan, plans of buildings, eleva- 
tion of main building of winning design. Buckler and Fenhagen, Architects. (Amer. 
Arch. and Arch. Rev., Aug. 13, 1924, v. 126, pp. 133-138.) 


DENISON UNIVERSITY, GRANVILLE, OHIO. Group plan, perspective sketches, etc. 
Arnold W. Brunner, Architect; Frederick Law Olmsted, Landscape Architect. (Arch. 
Ree, Oct..1923,°V- 54, pp. 298-320.) : 


HARVARD UNIVERSITY, CAMBRIDGE, MASS. Business School Competition. Group 
perspective, plan, elevation of library and dining hall of winning design. McKim, Mead 
and White, Architects. Other designs by Ludlow and Peabody with Harold F. Kellogg 
associated; J. J. Haffner with Perry, Shaw and Hepburn associated; Raymond M. Hood; 
Walker and Gillette; Coolidge, Shepley, Bulfinch and Abbott; Parker, Thomas and Rice; 
Egerton Swartwout; Aymar Embury II; Benjamin W. Morris with Eric Gugler, asso- 
ciated; Hewitt and Brown; Guy Lowell. (Arch., March, April, May, June 1924 VST, 
PP- 131, 132, 193, 194, 227-230, pls. 33-36.) 

JOHNS HOPKINS UNIVERSITY, BALTIMORE, MD. The New Home of Johns Hop- 
kins University. Parker, Thomas and Rice, Architects. (Arch. Rec., June 199 §,.V037, 
pp. 481-492. Illus.) 

MASS. INSTITUTE OF TECHNOLOGY, CAMBRIDGE, MASS. Building the ‘New 
Technology,” by H. E. Kebbon. William Welles Bosworth, Architect. (Arch. Rev., 
New York, June 1916, v. 4 (New Series), pp. 85-92, pls. 57-70. Plans, elev., sections, 
exts., ints.) 


NEW YORK STATE COLLEGE OF AGRI CULTURE, ITHACA, N. Y. The State 
Architect and His Works: II. The State Agricultural College and other Institutions. 
Plans and sketches of the New York State College of Agriculture, Cornell University, 
Ithaca, N. Y. Lewis F. Pilcher, Architect. (Arch. Rec., Sept. 1923, v. 54, pp. 265-276.) 


PHILADELPHIA DIVINITY SCHOOL. Zantzinger, Borie & Medary, Architects. Ex- 
teriors of library; plan, elevations, and sections of St. Andrew’s Chapel; model of group. 
(Arch. Rec., Aug. 1923, v. 54, pp. 106-120.) 


PRINCETON UNIVERSITY, PRINCETON, N. J. Graduate College and Cleveland 


Memorial Tower. Cram, Goodhue and F erguson, Architects. (Amer. Arch., Nov. 26, 
1913, pp. 205-208, v. 104, plates of exts., ints.) 


UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, BERKELEY, CALIF. Greek amphitheater, revised 
group model, exterior of California Hall, Hearst Mining Building. John Galen Howard, 
Architect. (Arch. Rec., April 1908, v. 23, pp. 269-293. Illus.) 


UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN, ANN ARBOR, MICH. Law Courts Buildings. York 
and Sawyer, Architects. (Arch., July 1925, v. 52, pp. 237-242, pls. 97-102. Exts., 
ints., details.) 


UNIVERSITY OF PITTSBURGH, PA. The Cathedral of Learning. Illus. pamphlet 
by John G. Bowman. Published by the University of Pittsburgh, February 1925. 


WEST POINT MILITARY ACADEMY, WEST POINT, N. Y. The New West Point. 
Bird’s-eye sketch, views and plans of the Chapel, Post Headquarters. Cram, Good- 
hue and Ferguson, Architects. (Arch. Rec., Jan. 1911, v. 29, pp. 86-112.) 


388 BIBLIOGRAPHY 


YALE UNIVERSITY, NEW HAVEN, CONN. Peabody Museum of Natural History. 
Day and Klauder, Architects. (4rch., Nov. 1925, v. 52, pls. 165-168. Plans, exts., 
ints.) 

——. Sterling Hall of Medicine. Day and Klauder, Architects. (4rch., Aug. 1925, v. 
52, pis. 117-122. — Plan. exteseints) 


—. Yale University, A Plan for its Future Building. John Russell Pope, Architect. 
Illus. by O. R. Eggers. New York, Cheltenham Press, 1919. (Proposed, not followed.) 


——. Harkness Memorial. James G. Rogers, Architect. (4rch., October 1921, v. 44, 
pp. 287-310, pls. 141-156. Plans, exts., ints., details, sections.) 


—. Harkness Memorial. James.G. Rogers, Architect. (Arch. Rec., Sept. 1921, v. 50, 
pp. 163-182, plan, exts.) 


COUNTRY CLUBS 
Architectural Forum—Golf and Country Club Reference Number, March 1925, v. 42, pp. 
129-212, pls. 17-40. Illus. 
BAYSIDE, N. Y. OAKLAND GOLF CLUB. Roger H. Bullard, Architect. (4rch. 
Forum, Dec. 1923, v. 39, pls. 97-101. Plans, exts., ints.) 


LOCUST VALLEY, LONG ISLAND, N. Y. PIPING ROCK COUNTRY CLUB. 
Guy Lowell, Architect. (Suburban Life, July 1914, v. 19, pp. 8-11. Illus.) Amer. 
Arch., Dec. 25, 1912, v. 102, plates.) 


LONG BRANCH, N. J. NORWOOD GOLF CLUB. Harry Allan Jacobs, Architect. 
(Arch., Aug. 1922, v. 46, pls. 117-119. Plans, exts., ints.) 

MAMARONECK, N. Y. WINGED FOOT GOLF CLUB. Clifford C. Wendehack, 
Architect. (Arch. Rec., Jan. 1926, v. 59, pp. 7-17. Plans, exts., ints.) 

PASADENA, CALIF. FLINTRIDGE COUNTRY CLUB. Myron Hunt, Architect. 
(Arch. Rec., Aug. 1921, v. 50, pp. 93-101. Plans, exts., ints.) 

SAN ANTONIO, TEXAS. SAN ANTONIO COUNTRY CLUB. George Willis, Archi- 
tect. (d4rch. Rec., Jan. 1921, v. 49, pp. 48-55. Plans, exts., ints.) 


TENAFLY, N. J. KNICKERBOCKER COUNTRY CLUB. Aymar Embury II, Archi- 
tect. (Arch., Feb. 1917, v. 35, pls. 27-30. Plans, exts., ints.) 


COURT HOUSES 
NEW YORK CITY. COURT HOUSE. Guy Lowell, Architect. (4rch., April 1927, 
Vv. 55, pp. 189-192. Plan, exts., ints.) 


(For illustrations of other court houses, see Public Buildings Reference Numbers, compiled 
by the Architectural Forum and listed under CAPITOLS.) 


EXPOSITIONS 


BUFFALO, N. Y. PAN-AMERICAN EXPOSITION OF 1901. 
C. D. Arnold—Official Views of Pan-American Exposition. Buffalo, 1go1. 
Walter H. Page and others—Pan-American Exposition. (Worla’s Work, Aug. 1901, 
Vv. 2, pp. 1015-1096. Illus.) 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 389 


CHICAGO, ILL. WORLD’S COLUMBIAN EXPOSITION OF 1893, 


The Dream City. A Portfolio of Photographic Views of the World’s Columbian Ex. 
position. With an introduction by Professor Halsey C. Ives, St. Louis, Mo. 
N. D. Thompson Pub. Co., 1893. 


Lessons of the Chicago World’s Fair. An interview with the late Daniel H. Burnham. 
(Arch. Rec., Jan. 1913, v. 33, pp. 34-44. Illus.) 


Portfolio of Views Issued by the Department of Photography. C. D. Arnold, Chief. 
Chicago National Chemigraph Co., 1893. 


Portfolio of Photographs of the World’s Fair. Chicago, Werner Co., 1893. Plates. 


OMAHA, NEB. TRANS-MISSISSIPPI AND INTERNATIONAL EXPOSITION, 1808. 


James B. Haynes—History of the Trans-Mississippi and International Exposition. 
Omaha, Neb. St. Louis, Woodward and Tiernan Printing Co., 1910. Illus. 


PHILADELPHIA, PA. CENTENNIAL EXHIBITION OF 1876. 
James D. McCabe—Illustrated History of the Centennial Exhibition. Philadelphia, 
National Publishing Co., 1876. 


PHILADELPHIA, PA. SESQUI-CENTENNIAL EXPOSITION OF 1926. 
How the Sesqui-Centennial was Designed. John Molitor, Supervising Architect. 
(dm. Arch., v. 130, pp. 377-384, pls. 265-280, Nov. 5, 1926. Plans, exts., ints., 
sketches.) 


ST. LOUIS, MO. LOUISIANA PURCHASE EXPOSITION, 1904. 


The Greatest of Expositions Illustrated. Official publication. St. Louis, Official 
Photograph Co., 1904. 


SAN DIEGO, CALIF. PANAMA-CALIFORNIA EXPOSITION, 1915. 

C. Matlack Price—Panama-California Exposition. Bertram G. Goodhue and the 
Renaissance of Spanish-Colonial Architecture. (Arch. Rec., March 1915, v. 37, 
pp. 229-251. Illus.) 

C. M. Winslow—The Architecture and the Gardens of San Diego Exposition. Illus. 
San Francisco, P. Elder and Company, 1916. 


SAN FRANCISCO, CALIF. PANAMA-PACIFIC EXPOSITION OF IgI5. 


The Architecture and Landscape Gardening of the Exposition, a Pictorial Survey of the 
Most Beautiful of the Architectural Compositions of the Panama-Pacific Inter- 
national Exposition. Described by M. W. Raymond. With an introduction by 
L. C. Mullgardt, Architect. San F rancisco, P. Elder and Company, 1916. 

Paul E. Denivelle—Texture and Color at the Panama-Pacific Exposition. (Arch. 
Rec., Nov. 1915, v. 38, pp. 562-570. Illus.) 

Ben Macomber—The Jewel City, its Planning and Achievement; its Architecture, 
Sculpture, Symbolism, and Music; its Gardens, Palaces, and Exhibits. With 
colored frontispiece and more than seventy-five other illustrations. San Francisco, 
John H. Williams, rors. 

Louis C. Mullgardt—Panama-Pacific Exposition at San Francisco. (Arch. Rec., March 
1915, V. 37, PP. 193-227. Illus.) 


390 BIBLIOGRAPHY 


W. L. Woollett—Color in Architecture at the Panama-Pacific Exposition. (Arch. 
Rec., May 1915, v. 37, pp. 437-444. Illus.) 
SEATTLE, WASH. ALASKA-YUKON-PACIFIC EXPOSITION OF 1909. 
Our Exposition in Seattle. (4rch. Rec., July 1909, v. 26, pp. 24-32. Group plan, exts.) 


HOSPITALS 


Architectural Forum—Hospital Reference Number, Dec. 1922, v. 37, pp. 245-314. ae 
exts., ints. 

William J. Sayward—Planning of College Infirmaries. (Arch. Forum, June 1926, v. 44, 
PP. 373-376. Illus.) 

Edward F. Stevens—The American Hospital of the Twentieth Century. New York, 
Architectural Record Publishing Co., revised edition, 1921. 


Edward F. Stevens—The Small Hospital. (Arch. Forum, October 1926, v. 45, pp. 229-248. 
Plans, exts., ints.) 


. HOTELS 


Architectural Forum—Hotel Reference Number, Nov. 1923, v. 39, pp. 195-274. Illus. 

Frederick Jennings—Recent Hotel Architecture in California. (Arch. and Eng., Jan. 
1925, v. 80, pp. 51-111. Plans, exts., ints.) 

William L. Stoddart—Designing the Small City Hotel. (4rch. Forum, Feb. 1926, v. 44, 
pp. 109-128. Illus.) 


ALBUQUERQUE, NEW MEXICO. HOTEL FRANCISCAN. Trost and Trost, Archi- 
tects. (4rch., Dec. 1923, v. 48, pls. 191, 192. Ext.) 


ATLANTIC CITY, N. J. TRAYMORE HOTEL. Price & McLanahan, Architects. 
(Arch. Forum, Nov. 1917, v. 27, pp. 119-124. Plans, exts., ints.) 


LOS ANGELES, CALIF. BILTMORE HOTEL. Schultze & Weaver, Architects. (Arch. 
Forum, Nov. 1923, v. 39, pls. 73-79. Plans, exts., ints.) 


NEW YORK CITY. BILTMORE HOTEL. Warren & Wetmore, Architects. (Arch., 
Feb. 1914, v. 29, pls. 24-29, pp. 41-45. Plans, exts., ints.) | 


NEW YORK CITY. HOTEL COMMODORE. Warren & Wetmore, Architects. 
(Amer. Arch., March 5, 1919, v. 115, pls. 69~77. Plans, exts., ints.) 


NEW YORK CITY. THE SHELTON HOTEL. (4rch., April 1924, v. 49, pp. 101-110, 
pls. 49-58. Plans, exts., ints.) 

—. SAME. Arthur Loomis Harmon, Architect. (Arch. Rec., July 1925, v. §8, pp. 1-18. 
Plans, exts., ints.) 

—. SAME. Evolution of an Architectural Design, by Leon V. Solon. (Arch. Ree., 
April 1926, v. 59, pp. 367-375. Illus.) 


TOKIO, JAPAN. IMPERIAL HOTEL. Frank Lloyd Wright, Architect. (Arch. Rec., 
April 1923, v. 53, pp. 332-352. Plans, exts., ints.) 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 391 


HOUSES, COUNTRY 


American Country Houses of To-day. Edited by B. W. Close. New York, Architectural 
Book Pub. Co., 1922. Illus. 


Architectural Forum—Small House Reference Number, March 1926, v. 44, pp. 1 37-216, 
pls. 34-64. Illus. 


Atlantic Monthly Company—House Beautiful Building Annual 1927. A comprehensive 
and practical manual of procedure, materials, and methods of construction for all who 
contemplate building or remodelling a home. Boston, 1927. Illus. 


Adrian Bentley—An English Tudor Country House. The Residence of George Marshall 
Allen, Esq., Morristown, N. J. Charles I. Berg, Architect. (Arch. Forum, Dec. 1918, 
V. 29, pp. 145-150, pls. 81-92. Illus.) 

A. Lawrence Kocher—The American Country House. (Arch. Rec., Nov. 1925, v. 58, pp. 
401-512. Illus., plans, exts., ints.) 


A. Lawrence Kocher—The Country House. Are we developing an American Style? 
(Arch. Rec., Nov. 1926, pp. 385-502. Illus.) 


Ralph Rodney Root—Country Place Types of the Middle West. (Arch. Rec., Jan. 1924, 
W053 Pp. 1-32. Illus.) 

Russell T. Whitehead—Current Country House Architecture. (Arch. Rec., Nov. 1924, 
v. 56, pp. 385-488. Illus.) 

CALIFORNIA 

BEVERLY HILLS, CALIF. “DIAS DORADOS,” RESIDENCE FOR MR. THOMAS 
H. INCE. Roy Seldon Price, Architect. (West. Arch., May 1924, v. 33, pls. 8-16. 
Plans, exts., ints.) 

Giles Edgerton—“ Dias Dorados,” a Beautiful California Estate. A well designed Spanish 
ranch, the home of Thomas H. Ince. (Arts and Dec., June 1924, v. 21, pp. 16-18. 
Plans, exts., ints.) 

Arthur C. David—An Architect of Bungalows in California: Greene and Greene. (Arch. 
Rec., Oct. 1906, v. 20, pp. 306-315. Illus.) 

Irving F. Morrow—A Dialogue which Touches upon Mr. Smith’s Architecture. Plans, 
ints., exts., of houses by George Washington Smith, Architect. (Arch. and Eng., July 
1924, v. 78, pp. 53-97. Illus.) 

CONNECTICUT 


FARMINGTON, CONN. HOUSE OF MRS. R. M. BISSELL. E. S. Dodge, Architect. 
(Arch. Forum, March 1924, v. 40, pls. 39-42. Plans, exts., ints.) 


DELAWARE 


WILMINGTON, DEL. THE A. I. DU PONT RESIDENCE. Carrére and Hastings, 
Architects. (Arch. Rec., Oct. 1913, v. 34, PP. 337-347. Exts., ints.) 


FLORIDA 


Rexford Newcomb—Recent Architecture in Florida: house for George A. McKinlock, Palm 
Beach. (West. Arch., Dec. 1925, v. 34, Pp. 119-121, pls. 1-16. Plans, exts., ints.) 


392 BIBLIOGRAPHY 


MIAMI, FLA. “VIZCAYA,” THE VILLA AND GROUNDS. F. Burrall Hoffman, Jr., 
and Paul Chalfin, Associate Architects. (Arch. Rev., New York, July 1917, v. 5 (New 
Series), pp. 121-167. Illus.) 

Matlack Price—Mediterranean Architecture in Florida. (Arch. Forum, Jan. 1926, v. 44, 
pp. 33-40. Illus.) 


ILLINOIS 


LAKE FOREST, ILL. HOUSE OF HAROLD F. McCORMICK. Charles A. Platt, 
Architect. (4rch. Rec., March 1912, v. 31, pp. 201-225. Plans, exts., ints.) 


NEW YORK 
Charles Downing Lay—Style and Expression in Landscape Architecture. Air Views of 
Long Island Estates. (Arch. Forum, July 1924, v. 41, pp. 1-8. Illus.) 


PLEASANTVILLE, N. Y. HOUSE OF H. EDWARD MANVILLE. Donn Barber, 
Architect. (Arch. Rec., Jan. 1926, v. 59, pp. 39-49. Plans, exts.) 


NORTH CAROLINA 


Russell T. Whitehead—Some Work of Aymar Embury II in the Sand Hills of North Caro- 
lina. (Arch. Rec., June 1924, v. 55, pp. 505-568. Plans, exts., ints.) 


PENNSYLVANIA 
Harold D. Eberlein—Examples of the Work of Mellor and Meigs. (Arch. Rec., March 
1916, v. 39, pp. 213-246. Illus.) 


Arthur J. Meigs—An American Country House, the Property of Arthur E. Newbold, Jr., 
Laverock, Pa. New York, Architectural Book Pub. Co., 1925. Illus. 


ST. MARTIN’S PA. HOUSES ON NAVAJO STREET. Edmund B. Gilchrist, Archi- 
tect. (4mer. Arch., July 29, 1925, v. 128, pls. 209-211. Plans, exts., ints.) 


HOUSES, CITY 


NEW YORK CITY. HOUSE OF MAURICE BRILL. Frederick Sterner, Architect. 
(Arch. Forum, Jan. 1924, v. 40, pls. 10-13. Plans, exts., ints.) 


NEW YORK CITY. OFFICE AND RESIDENCE OF FREDERICK STERNER. 
Frederick Sterner, Architect. (Arch. Forum, Oct. 1922, v. 37, pls. 57-61. Plans, exts., 
ints.) 


NEW YORK CITY. RESIDENCE OF MRS. WILLARD STRAIGHT. Delano and 
Aldrich, Architects. (4rch., Mar. 1920, v. 41, pls. 33-38. Plans, exts., ints.) 


NEW YORK CITY. TWO NOTABLE HOUSES ON SUTTON PLACE. The homes of 
Mrs. W. K. Vanderbilt and Miss Anne Morgan. Mott B. Schmidt, Architect. (4rch. 
Forum, Aug. 1924, v. 41, pp. 49-60, pls. 17-24. _ Illus.) 


INDUSTRIAL BUILDINGS 


Architectural Forum—Industrial Building Reference Number, Sept. 1923, v. 39, pp. 83-151. 
Illus. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 393 


George C. Nimmons—Modern Industrial Plants. (4rch. Rec., Nov., Dec., 1918, Jan.— 
June, 1919; v. 44, PP. 414-421, 532-549; Vv. 45, Pp. 26-43, 148-168, 262-282, 343-365, 
450-470, 506-525. Illus.) 

Moritz Kahn—The Design of Industrial Buildings. The Detroit Evening News, Hudson 
Motor Co. Albert Kahn, Inc., Architects. (West. Arch., Aug. 1925, v. 34, PD. 80, 
pls. 1-16. Plans, exts., ints.) 


Arthur J. McEntee—Recent Development in the Architectural Treatment of Concrete 
Industrial Buildings. (4rch., Jan. 1921, v. 43, pp. 18-21. Illus.) 


INTERNATIONAL BUILDINGS 


WASHINGTON, D. C. PAN AMERICAN UNION and its annex: A Study in Plan and 
Detail. Albert Kelsey and Paul P. Cret, Associate Architects. (Arch. Rec., Nov. 1913, 
V. 34, pp. 385-457. Plans, exts., ints.) 


LIBRARIES 


Chalmers Hadley—Library Buildings, Notes, and Plans. Chicago, American Library 
Association, 1924. Illus. 

Snead and Company Iron Works, Inc.—Library Planning, Bookstacks and Shelving with 
Contributions from the Architects’ and Librarians’ Points of View. Jersey City, N. J., 
Snead and Company Iron Works, Inc., 1915. Illus. 

BOSTON, MASS. PUBLIC LIBRARY. McKim, Mead and White, Architects. (Ameri- 
can Architect and Building News, April 6, 1895, v. 48, p. 3 text and plates. Exts., ints.) 
(Brickbuilder, Feb. 1910, v. 19, pp. 32-37. Plans, exts., ints.) 


DETROIT, MICH. PUBLIC LIBRARY. Cass Gilbert, Architect. (4rch., July 1921, 
V. 44, Pp. 203-212, pls. 93-105. Plans, exts., ints., sections.) 

LA JOLLA, CALIF. PUBLIC LIBRARY. William Templeton Johnson, Mga (Arch. 
Rec., July 1924, v. 56, pp. 33-37. Plan, ext., int.) 

LOS ANGELES, CALIF. PUBLIC LIBRARY. Carleton M. Winslow, Architect, and 
Bertram G. Goodhue Associates. (West. Arch., Feb. 1927, v. 36, pp. 19-22, pls. 19-26. 
Plans, exts., ints.) 

NEW YORK. PUBLIC LIBRARY. Carrére and Hastings, Architects. (Arch. Rec., 
Sept. 1910, v. 28, pp. 145-172. Plans, exts., ints., details.) 


ST. PAUL, MINN. THE JAMES J. HILL REFERENCE LIBRARY AND THE ST. 
PAUL PUBLIC LIBRARY. Electus D. Litchfield, Architect. (4rch. Rec., Jan. 
1920, V. 47, pp. 3-24. Plans, exts., ints.) 

SAN MARINO, CALIF. LIBRARY OF HENRY E. HUNTINGTON. Myron Hunt, 
Architect. (4rch. Forum, March 1922, v. 36, pp. 95-96, pls. 33-34. Plans, exts., ints.) 


WALTHAM, MASS. PUBLIC LIBRARY. Leland and Loring, Architects. (Amer. 
Arch., Oct. 29, 1919, v. 116, pls. 149-152. Exts., ints.) 


WASHINGTON, D.C. THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. Smithmeyer, Pelz and Casey, 
Architects. (Arch. Rec., Jan.—March 1898, v. 7, pp. 295-332. Plans, exts., ints.) 


394 BIBLIOGRAPHY 


MEMORIALS 


Architectural Forum—Memorial Buildings and Monuments Reference Number, Dec. 1926, 
Vv. 45, pp. 321-368. Plans, exts, ints. 


INDIANAPOLIS, IND. WAR MEMORIAL. Group plan, elev. Walker and Weeks, 
Architects. (Arch. Rec., June 1923, v. 53, PP. $73-575.) 


KANSAS CITY, MO. KANSAS CITY MEMORIAL. Plan, elev., perspective sketch. 
H. Van Buren Magonigle, Architect. (Yournal, Amer. Inst. of Archs., Aug. 1921, v. 
9, Pp. 266-270.) | 


——. SAME. Plan, elev., perspective sketch. Exteriors and sculptured frieze. H. Van 
Buren Magonigle, Architect. (Arch., Jan. 1927, v. 55, pp. 1-8.) 


NEW YORK STATE. THEODORE ROOSEVELT MEMORIAL. Design Winning the 
Competition for the Selection of an Architect. Plan, elev., section by John Russell 
Pope. Also designs submitted by Helmle and Corbett; Trowbridge and Livingston 
(Amer, Arch., July 1, 1925, p. 14, v. 128, pls. 168-178.) 

WASHINGTON, D. C. LINCOLN MEMORIAL. Henry Bacon, Architect. (Fournal, 
Amer. Inst. of Archs., May 1923, v. 11, pls. opp. p. 190. Plan, exts.) 


——. SAME. (4rch. Rec., June 1923, v. 53, pp. 478-508. Exts., ints.) 


WASHINGTON, D. C. THEODORE ROOSEVELT MEMORIAL. Views of Model 
of Prize Winning Design by John Russell Pope, Architect. (Amer. Arch., May 20, 
1926, v. 129, pls. 105-108.) 

——. SAME. Designs Submitted in the Competition for a Monumental Memorial in 
Washington, D. C. to Theodore Roosevelt. Plans and elevs., by Pond and Pond; 
Egerton Swartwout; Charles A. Platt; John Mead Howells; McKim, Mead and White; 
Delano and Aldrich; C. Grant LaFarge; Albert Randolph Ross. (Amer. Arch., Feb. 5, 
1926, v. 129, pls. 13-20 ) 

——. SAME. Prize Winning Designs in Competition for a Memorial to Theodore Roose- 
velt. John Russell Pope, Architect. (Amer. Arch., Jan. 20, 1926, v. 129, pls. 7-11. 
Plan, elev., detail, perspective.) 


MUSEUMS 


Architectural Forum—Library and Museum Reference Number, Dec. 1927, v. 47, PP. 497- 
608, pls. 97-128. Plans, exts., ints. 


Benjamin Ives Gilman—Museum Ideals of Purpose and Method. Cambridge, Printed by 
Order of the Trustees of the Museum at the Riverside Press, 1918. Tllus. 


BOSTON, MASS. MUSEUM OF FINE ARTS. Guy Lowell, Architect. (Arch., Jan. 
IQIO, v. 21, pp. 1-2, 4, pl. 51. Exts., ints.) 


‘CAMBRIDGE, MASS. HARVARD UNIVERSITY. FOGG MUSEUM OF ART. 
Coolidge, Shepley, Bulfinch and Abbott, Architects. (Arch. Rec., June 1927, v. 61, 
pp. 465-477. Plans, exts., ints.) 


CHICAGO, ILL. FIELD MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY. Graham, Anderson, 
Probst and White, Architects. (Arch. Rec., July 1924, v. 56, pp. I-1 5. Plan, exts., ints. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 395 


CLEVELAND, O. MUSEUM OF ART. Hubbell and Benes, Architects. (Arch. Rec., 
Sept. 1916, v. 40, pp. 194-211. Plans, exts., ints.) 


DETROIT, MICH. MUSEUM OF THE INSTITUTE OF ARTS. Paul P. Cret and 
Zantzinger, Borie and Medary, Architects. (Amer. Arch., June 3, 1925, v. 127, p. 494. 
Plan, elev.) 


MINNEAPOLIS, MINN. MUSEUM OF FINE ARTS. McKim, Mead and White, 
Architects. (Amer. Arch., April 21, 1915, v. 107, pp. 245-248, and plates.) 


NEW YORK CITY. METROPOLITAN MUSEUM. R. M. Hunt, Architect. (Arch. 
Rec., Aug. 1902, v. 12, pp. 304-310. Exts.) 


PHILADELPHIA, PA. MUSEUM OF ART. Borie, Trumbauer, Zantzinger, Archi- 
tects. Plans, exts., ints., elev., section. (Arch. Rec., Aug. 1926, v. 60, pp. 97-III. 
Exteriors under construction and polychrome detail.) 


SAN DIEGO, CALIF. FINE ARTS BUILDING. W. T. Johnson and Robert W. Snyder, 
Architects. (Arch. Forum, Oct. 1926, v. 45, pp. 193-198. Plans, exts., ints.) 


SAN FRANCISCO, CALIF. MEMORIAL MUSEUM. Louis C. Mullgardt, Architect. 
(Arch. Rev., New York, Feb. 1921, v. 12 (New Series), pls. 19-20, Exts.) 


SANTA FE, NEW MEXICO. ART MUSEUM. Rapp and Rapp and Hendrick- 
son, Architects. (Illus. article, 4rch. Rev., New York, Feb. 1918, v. 6 (New Series), 
pp. 17-18, pls. 10-14. Plan, exts., ints., sections.) 


WASHINGTON, D. C. FREER GALLERY OF ART. Charles A. Platt, Architect. 
(4rch., Sept. 1923, v. 48, pp. 293-297, pls. 129-134. Plans, elev., exts., ints.) 


OFFICE BUILDINGS 


Architectural Forum—Office Building Reference Number, Sept. 1924, v. 41, pp. 89-160, pls. 
33-48. Plans and exts. of Bush Bldg., New York; Standard Oil, San Francisco; Lon- 
don Guarantee and Accident Building, Chicago, etc. 


Walter Curt Behrendt—Skyscrapers in Germany (includes remarks on American sky- 
scrapers.) (Yournal, Amer. Inst. of Archs., Sept. 1923, v. 11, pp. 365-370. Illus.) 

John Taylor Boyd, Jr.—The New York Zoning Resolution and its Influence upon Design. 
(Arch. Rec., Sept. 1920, v. 48, pp. 193-217. Illus.) 

——. A new emphasis in Skyscraper Design, Exemplified in the Recent Work of Starrett 
and Van Vleck. (rch. Rec., Dec. 1922, v. 52, pp. 496-509. Illus.) 

Harvey W. Corbett—High Buildings on Narrow Streets. (Amer. Arch., June 8, 1921, v. 
119, pp. 603-608, 617. Illus.) : 

Leonard Cox—This Cinematerial Age. (Journal, Amer. Inst. of Archs., March, May 1926, 
v. 14, pp. 96-98, 222-223.) 

Herbert D. Croly—The Skyscraper in the Service of Religion. (Speculative Comment on ° 
Donn Barber’s Broadway Temple, New York City.) (Arch. Rec., Feb. 1924, v. 55, pp. 
203-204.) 

Aymar Embury II—New York’s New Architecture. The Effect of the Zoning Law on 
High Buildings. Plans, exts., of Heckscher Building, New York; Fisk Building and 


396 BIBLIOGRAPHY 


Wrigley Building, Chicago, etc. (Arch. Forum. Oct. 1921, v. 35, pp. 119-124, pls. 47— 
55. Illus.) 


W. J. Fryer—New York Building Law. (Arch. Ree., July-Sept. 1891, v. 1, pp. 69-82.) 


Bassett Jones—The Modern Building is a Machine. (Amer. Arch., Jan. 30, 1924, v. 125, 
Pp. 93-98.) 

Irving F. Morrow—Recent San Francisco Skyscrapers. (Arch. and Eng., Nov. 1923, v. 75, 
pp. 51-84. Illus.) 

Lewis Mumford—Is the Skyscraper Tolerable ? (4rch., Feb. 1927, v. 55, pp. 67-69. _ Illus.) 


Lewis Mumford—High Buildings, an American View. (Amer. Arch., Nov. 5, 1924, v. 
126, pp. 423-424.) 

Rexford Newcomb—The Trend of Skyscraper Design. (West. Arch., Mar. 1926, vy. 35, Pp. 

31-33:) 

George C. Nimmons—Skyscrapers in America. (Fournal, Amer. Inst. of Archs., Sept. 
1923, v. II, pp. 370-372.) 

Arthur J. Penty—Architecture in the United States. (Fournal, Amer. Inst. of Archs., Nov. 
1924, V. 12, pp. 473-478.) 

Leon V. Solon—Passing of the Skyscraper Formula for Design. (Arch. Rec., Feb. 1924, 
Vv. 55, pp. 135-144. Illus.) 


Herbert S. Swan—Making the New York Zoning Ordinance Better. A Program of im- 
provement. (Arch. Forum, Oct. 1921, v. 35, pp. 125-130. Illus.) 


CHICAGO 
The Chicago Tribune—International Competition for a New Administration Building for 
the Chicago Tribune, 1922; containing all the designs submitted in response to the 
Chicago Tribune’s $100,000 offer commemorating its seventy-fifth anniversary, June 
10, 1922. Chicago: Chicago Tribune, 1923. 
CHICAGO TRIBUNE BUILDING. Winning designs by John Mead Howells and Ray- 
mond M. Hood, Associate Architects. (Amer. Arch., Oct. 5, 1925, v. 128, pls. 264-271. 
Plans, exts., details.) 


——. SAME. (West. Arch., Nov. 1925, v.34, pp. 111-115, pls. 1-16. Plans, exts., details.) 


——. SAME. The Evolution of an Architectural Design—Tribune Building Tower, 
Chicago. (drch. Rec., March 1926, v. 59, pp. a15—225, Ins.) ; 


——. SAME. High Buildings and Beauty, Part 1 and 2. Illus. with competition draw- 
ings of the Chicago Tribune Tower. (Arch. Forum, Feb., April 1923, v. 38, pp. 41-44, 
179-182.) 

MONADNOCK BUILDING. Burnham & Root, Architects. (Arch. Rec., July 1915, v. 
38° Dp. ge sixee) | 

ROOKERY BUILDING. Burnham & Root, Architects. (Arch. Rec., July 1915, v. 38, 
patch xt.) : 


BIBLIOGRAPHY | 397 


DETROIT 

BUHL BUILDING. Smith, Hinchman and Grylls, Architects. (Arch. Forum, July 1926, 
V. 45, Pp. 30-32, pls. 9-14. Plans, exts., ints.) 

NEW YORK CITY 

AMERICAN RADIATOR BUILDING. Raymond M. Hood, Architect. (Amer. Arch., 
Nov. 19, 1924, v. 126, pp. 467-484, pls. 161-168. Plans, exts., ints., model.) 

BARCLAY-VESEY TELEPHONE BUILDING. McKenzie, Voorhees & Gmelin, Archi- 
tects. (Amer. Arch., Nov. 20, 1926, v. 130, pp. 387-428, pls. 281-296.) 

CHICKERING BUILDING. Cross & Cross, Architects. (d4rch., Jan. 1925, v. 51, pls. 
2-6. Exts., ints.) 

CUNARD BUILDING. Benjamin W. Morris, Architect; Carrére and Hastings, Con- 
sulting Architects. (Arch. Forum, July 1921, v. 35, pp. 1-24, pls. 1-15. Plans, exts., 
ints., details.) 

FULLER BUILDING (Flatiron). D.H. Burnham & Co., Architects. (Arch. Rec., Aug. 
1600, 720, p. 93. Ext.) 

METROPOLITAN LIFE INSURANCE BUILDING. N. LeBrun and Sons, Archi- 
tects. (Cérch. Rec., Aug. 1909, v. 26, p.95. Ext.) 

SINGER BUILDING. Ernest Flagg, Architect. (Arch. Rec., Aug. 1909, v. 26, p. 95. 
Ext.) | 

WOOLWORTH BUILDING. Cass Gilbert, Architect. (4rch., Jan., June 1913, v. 27, 
pp. 3, 8-10, pls. 1-4, 52-59. Exts., ints, plans.) 

—. SAME. The Towers of Manhattan and Notes on the Woolworth Building. Cass 
Gilbert, Architect. (Arch. Rec., Feb. 1913, v. 33, pp. 98-122. Illus.) 

—. SAME. Notes on Gargoyles, Grotesque and Chimeras. (4rch. Rec., Feb. 1914, v. 


48, pp. 132-139. Illus.) 
SAN FRANCISCO, CALIF. 


PACIFIC GAS AND ELECTRIC BUILDING. Bakewell and Brown, Architects. (Amer. 
Arch., Nov. 20, 1925, v. 128, p. 434, pls. 304-308. Plans, exts., ints.) 


PACIFIC TELEPHONE AND TELEGRAPH BUILDING. J. R. Miller and T. L. 
Pflueger, A. A. Cantin, Associate Architects. (4mer. Arch., March 20, 1926, v. 129, 


pp. 367-372, pls. 49-53.) 
—. SAME. (West. Arch., March 1926, v. 35, pls. 33-40.) 
—. SAME. (arch. and Eng., Dec. 1925, v. 83, pp. 51-80. Plans, exts., ints.) 


PUEBLO ARCHITECTURE 
Rose Henderson—A Primitive Basis for Modern Architecture. (Arch. Rec., Aug. 1923, v. 
54, pp. 188-196. Illus.) 
Rexford Newcomb—Santa Fé, the Historic and Modern. (West. Arch., Jan. 1924, v. 
33, Dp. 4-6, pls. 1-16. Illus.) 
SANTE FE, NEW MEXICO. (Amer. Arch., May 7, 1924, v. 125, pp. 421-425. Illus.) 


398 BIBLIOGRAPHY 


RAILROAD STATIONS | 
W. W. Beach—Railway Stations of Moderate Size. (Arch. Forum, April 1926, v. 44, pp. 
251-272. Plans, exts., ints.) 
AJO, ARIZONA. RAILROAD DEPOT. W. M. Kenyon and Maurice F. Maine, Archi- 
tects. (4rch., Jan. 1919, v. 39, pls. 11-13. Exts.) 


CHICAGO, ILL. UNION STATION. Graham, Anderson, Probst and White, Architects. 
(Arch. Forum, Feb. 1926, v. 44, pp. 8 5-88, pls. 17-24. Plan, exts., ints.) : 


NEW YORK CITY. GRAND CENTRAL TERMINAL. Warren and Wetmore, Archi- 
tects. (4rch., March 1913, v. 37, pls. 20-29. Exts., ints.) 


NEW YORK CITY. PENNSYLVANIA STATION. McKim, Mead and White, Archi- 
tects. (drch. Rec., June 1910, v. 27, pp. 518-521. Ext.) 


RICHMOND, VA. UNION PASSENGER STATION. John Russell Pope, Architect. 
(Amer. Arch., July 9, 1919, v. 116, pp. 31-38, pls. 10-18. Plans, elev., sections, exts. 
ints.) 

SAN DIEGO, CALIF. SANTA FE STATION. Bakewell and Brown, Architects. (Amer. 
Arch., Nov. 21, 1917, v. 112, pls. 242, 243. Plan, ext; ints) 


WASHINGTON, D. C. UNION STATION. D. H. Burnham and Co., Architects. 
(Arch. Rec., July 1915, v. 38, pp. 154-158. Plan, ext., ints.) 


SCHOOLS 
Grade School Buildings, Book II. New York, Rogers and Manson, 1927. Illus. 


John J. Donovan—School Architecture, Principles and Practices. New York, Macmillan 
Company, 1921. 

Guy Study—Elementary School Buildings. (Arch. Rec., May 1926, v. 59, PP. 403-421. 
Illus.) 


——. Junior and Senior High Schools. (Arch. Rec., Sept. 1926, v. 60, pp. 202-224. Illus. 


BUILDINGS FOR SOCIETIES 


Architectural Forum—Club and Fraternal Buildings Reference Number, September 1926, 
V- 45, Pp. 129-192, pls. 33-48. Illus. 

WASHINGTON, D. C. NATIONAL ACADEMY OF SCIENCES AND NATIONAL 
RESEARCH COUNCIL. Bertram G. Goodhue, Architect. (Arch., Oct. 1924, v. 
50, PP- 329-334, pls. 145-152. Plans, exts., ints., details.) 


WASHINGTON, D. C. TEMPLE OF THE SCOTTISH RITE. John Russell Pope, 
Architect. (Arch. Rev., New York, Jan. 1916, v. 4 (New Series), pp. I-12, pls. 1-12. 
Plans, exts.) 


STADIA 
Roi L. Morin—Stadia: Illus. Series in the American Architect, as below: 


I. University of Pennsylvania, Franklin Field Stadium. (Oct. 24, 1923, V. 124, 
PP. 365-373.) 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 399 


II. Yankee Stadium, New York City. (Nov. 7, 1923, V. 124, pp. 412-416.) 
III. Los Angeles Coliseum. (May 7, 1924, v. 125, pp. 427-434.) 
IV. University of Kansas Stadium. (Aug. 27, 1924, v. 126, pp. 197-205.) 


H. D. Smith—Report on Trip to Princeton, Grille of the City of New York, Yale and 
Harvard, for the Purpose of Inspecting the Stadia at those Universities. (Amer. Arch., 
July 21, Aug. 4, 18, 25, 1920, v. 118, pp. 94-96, 124-126, 160-164, 221-224, Beceabs. 
Illus.) 


ARLINGTON, VA. ARLINGTON MEMORIAL AMPHITHEATRE. Carrére and 
Hastings, Architects. (4rch. Forum, March 1921, v. 34, pp. 91-96, pls. 33-36. Plan 
elev., section, views.) 


BROWN UNIVERSITY, PROVIDENCE, R. I. STADIUM. Gavin Hadden, Engineer; 
Paul P. Cret, Consulting Architect. (Amer. Arch., Feb. 20, 1926, v. 129, pp. 285-288. 
Plan, elev., section, exts.) 


CHICAGO, ILL. GRANT PARK STADIUM. . Holabird and Roche, Architects. (Arch. 
Forum, Feb. 1925, v. 42, pp. 79~80, pls. 9-10. _IIlus.) 


CORNELL UNIVERSITY, ITHACA, N. Y. CORNELL CRESCENT. Gavin Hadden, 
Designer. (Arch. Rec., March 1925, v. 57, pp. 193-203. Plans, exts., ints.) 


NEW YORK, N.Y. COLLEGE OF THE CITY OF NEW YORK. STADIUM. Arnold 
W. Brunner, Architect. (Amer. Arch. » Aug. 4, I915, v. 108, pp. 69-72, and plates. 
Plans, elev., section, views.) 


PASADENA, CALIF. STADIUM. Myron Hunt, Architect. (4mer. Arch., Oct. 20, 1925, 
v. 128, pp. 341-346. Plans, air views, sections, elev.) 


TERRE HAUTE, IND. MEMORIAL STADIUM. Shourds-Stoner Co., Inc., Architects 
and Engineers. (4mer. Arch., Feb. 20, 1926, v. 129, pp. 281-284. Plan, ext., elev., 
section.) 


YALE UNIVERSITY, NEW HAVEN, CONN. THE YALE BOWL. Donn Barber, 
Architect. (In Proceedings of Amer. Society of Civil Eng., 1917, v. 81, pp. 249-296. 
Paper No. 1386. Illus., diagrs.) 


> 


STORES AND SHOPS 


Architectural Forum—Shop and Store Reference Number, June 1924, v. 40, pp. 233-287, 
pls. 81-96. Illus.) 

John Taylor Boyd—The Newer Fifth Ave. Rete Shop Fronts. (Arch. Rec., June 1921. 
Vv. 49, Pp. 458-487. Illus.) 

NEW YORK CITY. CHILDS BUILDING, 604 Fifth Ave. Severance and William 
Van Alen, Architects. (4rch. Rec., Jan. 1926, v. 59, pp. 59-63. _ Illus.) 


NEW YORK CITY. GORHAM BUILDING. McKim, Mead and White, Architects. 
(Arch. Rec., Aug. 1909, v. 26, p. 86. Ext.) 


NEW YORK CITY. LORD & TAYLOR STORE. Starrett and Van Vleck, Architects, 
(Arch., April 1914, v. 29, pls. 42-51. Exts., ints.) 


400 BIBLIOGRAPHY 


NEW YORK CITY. MACMILLAN COMPANY BUILDING, Fifth Ave. Carrére 
and Hastings, and Shreve and Lamb, Architects. (Amer. Arch., June 17, 1925, v. 
127, pls. 157-161. Plans, exts., ints.) 


NEW YORK CITY. ADDITION TO DEPARTMENT STORE OF R. H. MACY & 
CO. Robert D. Kohn and Associates, Architects. (Amer. Arch. and Arch. Rev., June 
4, 1924, V. 125, pp. $31-537 and plates. Plan, exts.) 


NEW YORK CITY. WANAMAKER BUILDING. D. H. Burnham & Co., Architects. 
(4rch. Rec., Nov. 1905, v. 18, p. 394. Ext.) 


NEW YORK CITY. SHOP FOR E. WEYHE. Henry S. Churchill, Architect. (Amer. 
Arch. and Arch. Rev., March 26, 1924, v. 125, plate. Ext.) 


PHILADELPHIA, PA. WANAMAKER BUILDING. D. H. Burnham & Co., Archi- 
tects. (drch. Rec., March 1911, v. 29, pp. 277-288. Exts., ints.) 


THEATRES 


Architectural Forum—Motion Picture Reference Number, June 1925; v. 42, pp. 361-432, 
pls. 61-92. Illus.) 


Claude Bragdon—A Theatre Transformed, a Description of the Permanent Setting by 
Norman Bel Geddes for Max Reinhardt’s spectacle “The Miracle.” (4rch. Rec., April 
1924, v- 55, pp. 388-397. Plans, sections, details.) 


——. Towards a New Theatre. Plans by Norman Bel Geddes. (Arch. Rec., Sept. 1922, 
v. 52, 170-182. Illus.) 


BOSTON, MASS. METROPOLITAN THEATRE. (Amer. Arch., Aug. 5, 1926, v. 130, 
pls. 181-187. Plans, exts., ints.) 


BOSTON, MASS. REPERTORY THEATRE OF BOSTON. J. Williams Beal Sons, 
Architects. (4rch., Feb. 1926, v. 53, pls. 17-22. Plans, exts., ints.) 


HOLLYWOOD, CALIF. GRAUMAN THEATRE. Meyer and Holler, Architects. (Amer. 
Arch., Jan. 31, 1923, v. 123, pp. 113-116 and plates, pp. 125-127. Plan, sections, exts., 
ints.) 


NEW YORK CITY. GUILD THEATRE. C. Howard Crane, Kenneth Franzheim and 
Charles Hunter Bettis, Architects. (4rch. Forum, July 1925, v. 43, pp. 13-16, pls. 1-4. 
Plans, exts., ints.) 


——. SAME. (4rch. Rec., Dec. 1924, v. 56, pp. 508-516. Plan, elev., sec., sketch.) 


NEW YORK CITY. MANHATTAN OPERA HOUSE. Hammerstein and Denivelle, 
Decorators. (Arch. Rec., Feb. 1907, V. 21, pp. 148-152. Ints.) 


NEW YORK CITY. NEIGHBORHOOD PLAY HOUSE. Harry Creighton Ingalls and 
F. Burrall Hoffman, Jr., Associate Architects. (Arch. Rec., Nov. 1915, v. 38, pp. 550- 
554. Plan, ext., ints.) 


NEW YORK CITY. ZIEGFELD THEATRE. Joseph Urban and Thomas W. Lamb, 
Architects. (Arch. Rec., May 1927, v. 61, pp. 385-393. Plans, exts., ints., details.) 


——. SAME. (4rch. Forum, May 1927, v. 46, pp. 414-420, pl. 83. Plans, exts., ints.) 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 401 


PASADENA, CALIF. PLAYHOUSE. Elmer Grey, Architect. (Amer. Arch., Nov. 5, 
1925, v. 128, pls. 288-293. Plan, exts., ints.) 


ROCHESTER, N. Y. EASTMAN SCHOOL OF MUSIC, UNIVERSITY OF ROCHES- 
TER. Gordon and Kaelber, Architects; McKim, Mead and White, Associate Archi- 
tects. (Amer. Arch. and Arch. Rev., Feb. 28, 1923, v. 123, pp. 181-184, 195-199, and 
plates. Plans, exts., ints., sections, murals.) 


TOWN AND CITY HALLS 


Charles G. Loring—The Small Town Hall: Plattsburg, N. Y.; Arlington, Mass.; Tewks- 
bury, Mass.; Weston, Mass.; Kennebunk, Me.; Peterborough, N. H. (Arch. Forum, 
Nov. 1925, v. 43, pp. 289-312. Plans, exts.) 


CLEVELAND, OHIO. CITY HALL. J. Milton Dyer, Architect. (Amer. Arch., July 
25, 1917, v. 112, pp. 61-63, pls. 32-50. Plans, exts., ints.) 

DALLAS, TEXAS. HIGHLAND PARK CITY HALL. Lang and Witchell, Architects. 
(Arch., Dec. 1925, v. 52, pls. 182-183. Plans, exts.) 

NEW YORK CITY. MUNICIPAL BUILDING. McKim, Mead & White, Architects. 
(Amer. Arch. and Arch. Rev., May 24, 1922, v. 121, pp. 426a, 433. Ext.) 

OAKLAND, CALIF. CITY HALL. Palmer, Hornbostel & Jones, Architects. (Brick- 
builder, July 1914, v. 23, pp. 159-162, pls. 97-100. Plans, exts., details.) 


SAN FRANCISCO, CALIF. CITY HALL. Bakewell & Brown, Architects. (4rch. and 
Eng., Aug. 1916, v. 46, pp. 39-84. Plans, exts., ints.) 


é 
\ 
£ 
. 
‘ 
' 
¥ 
‘ 
‘ 
t fs 
4) " 
{+ vi 
\ ai 


